Silver  Hand 


BOOKS   WRITTEN  AND    ILLUSTRATED    BY 

HOWARD    PYLE 

PUBLISHED  BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


THE   STORY   OF   KING   ARTHUR   AND    HIS 
KNIGHTS. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE   CHAMPIONS  OF  THE 
ROUND  TABLE. 

THE  STORY  OF  SIR  LAUNCELOT  AND  HIS 
COMPANIONS. 

THE    STORY    OF    THE     GRAIL    AND    THE 
PASSING  OF  ARTHUR. 


THE  MERRY  ADVENTURES  OF  ROBIN  HOOD, 
OF  GREAT  RENOWN  IN  NOTTINGHAMSHIRE. 

THE  GARDEN  BEHIND  THE  MOON.    A  REAL 
STORY  OF  THE  MOON  ANGEL. 

OTTO  OF  THE  SILVER  HAND. 


IN  THE   BBLFRY. 


Otto 


I  Ui  iiVi_ivi>'. !  V  Or 


Of  the  Silver  Hand 


Written  and  Illustrated  by 
HOWARD  PYLE 

\x 


NEW  YORK: 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S     SONS 
1914 


Copyright,  1888,  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


CONTENTS. 


i. 


The  Dragon's  House,   . 

II. 
How  the  Baron  Went  Fortb  to  Shear, 


How  the  Baron  Came  Home  Sborn,     ....      20 


The  Wbite  Cross  on  the  Hill, 


335803 


viii  CONTENTS. 

V. 


PAGB 


How  Otto  Dwelt  at  St.  Micbaelsburg,  ....      40 

VI. 

How  Otto  Lived  in  tbe  Dragon's  House,      .       .        .      JJ 

VII. 
Tbe  Red  Cock  Crows  on  Dracbenbausen,   ...      69 

VIII. 
In  tbe  House  of  tbe  Dragon  S corner,   .        .        .  91 

IX. 

How  One-eyed  Hans  Came  to  Trut^-Dracben,  .        .      104 

X. 

How  Hans  Brought  Terror  to  tbe  Kitchen,  .       .       .      1 1  j 

XL 

How  Otto  was  Saved,         .       .       .       .        .       .      iji 

XII. 
A  Ride  for  Life,         » 1 


CONTENTS. 


IX 


XIII. 

How  Baron  Conrad  Held  the  Bridge, 


PAGE 

149 


XIV. 
How  Otto  Saw  the  Great  Emperor,     . 


.       161 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


There  they  sat,  just  as  little  children  in  the  town  might  sit  upon  PAGK 

their  father's  door-step, 5 

Away  they  rode  with  clashing  hoofs  and  ringing  armor,  .        .        .15 

No  one  was  within  but  old  Ursela,  who  sat  crooning  over  a  fire,   .  23 

Abbot  Otto,  of  St.  Michaelsburg,  was  a  gentle,  patient,  pale-faced 

old  man,     - .        . ?9 

"  Wloile  I  lay  there  with  my  horse  upon  me,  Baron  Frederick  ran 

me  down  with  his  lance," ^5 

The  poor,  simple  Brother  sitting  under  the  pear-tree,  close  to  the 

bee-hives,  rocking  the  little  baby  in  his  arms,    ....  43 


xii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGH 

Always  it  was  one  picture  that  little  Otto  sought,  .  *  .  -49 
Poor  Brother  John  came  forward  and  took  the  boy's  hand,  .  .57 
Otto  lay  close  to  her  feet  upon  a  bear-skin,  .  ...  63 

The  grim  Baron  sat  silent  with  Us  chin  resting  upon  Us  clenched 
fist,      .       .       .       .       .       ,       ...  •        .71 

Slowly  raising  himself  upon  the  narrow  foothold  he  peeped  cau- 
tiously within,      ......  -77 

Schwart^  Carl,   holding  Us  arhelast  in  his  hand,   stood  silently 

watching,       .  . 8* 

He  strode  forward  into  the  room  and  laid  Us  hand  heavily  on  the 

boy's  shoulder,      .       .       .• 87 

"  Then  dost  thou  not  know  why  I  am  here  ?  "  said  the  Baron,  .  93 
Frit  ^,  the  swineherd,  sat  eating  Us  late  supper  of  porridge,  .  .103 
Hans  held  up  a  necklace  of  blue  and  white  beads,  .  .  .  .109 

"Thou  ugly  toad,"  said  the  woman, 117 

The  man  was  Long  Jacob,  the  Bowman, 123 

In  an  instant  he  was  flung  back  and  down, 127 

The  next  moment  they  were  banging  in  mid-air,  .  .  .  .135 
He  was  gating  straight  before  him  with  a  set  and  stony  face,  .  143 


xm 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

In  the  middle  of  the  narrow  way  stood  the  motionless,  steel-clad    PAG8 

figure*  •        •        •        •        •        .'-..,       v       .        .        .     *.     I5i 

For  a  moment  they  stood  swaying  backward  and  forward,       .       .157 

.t  was  the  great  Emperor  Rudolph,     ...  I6£- 


FOREWORD. 

ETWEEN  the  far  away  past  history  of  the 
world,  and  that  which  lies  near  to  us ;  in  the 
time  when  the  wisdom  of  the  ancient  times  was 
dead  and  bad  passed  away,  and  our  own  days 
of  light  bad  not  yet  come,  there  lay  a  great 
black  gulf  in  human  history,  a  gulf  of  ignorance,  of  super- 
stition, of  cruelty,  and  of  wickedness. 

That  time  we  call  the  dark  or  middle  ages. 
Few  records  remain  to  us  of  that  dreadful  period  in  our 
world's  history,  and  we  only  know  of  it  through  broken  and 
disjointed  fragments  that  have  been  banded  down  to  us  through 
the  generations. 

Yet,  though  the  world's  life  then  was  so  wicked  and  black, 


2  FOREWORD. 

there  yet  remained  a  few  good  men  and  women  bere  and  tbere 
(mostly  in  peaceful  and  quiet  monasteries,  far  from  the  thunder 
and  the  glare  of  the  world's  bloody  battle),  who  knew  the  right 
and  the  truth  and  lived  according  to  what  they  knew ;  who 
preseroed  and  tenderly  cared  for  the  truths  that  the  dear  Christ 
taught,  and  lived  and  died  for  in  Palestine  so  long  ago. 

This  tale  that  I  am  about  to  tell  is  of  a  little  boy  who  lived 
and  suffered  in  those  dark  middle  ages ;  of  how  be  saw  both  the 
good  and  the  bad  of  men,  and  of  bow,  by  gentleness  and  love 
and  not  by  strife  and  hatred,  be  came  at  last  to  stand  above 
other  men  and  to  be  looked  up  to  by  all.  And  should  you 
follow  the  story  to  the  end,  I  hope  you  may  find  it  a  pleasure,  as 
I  have  done,  to  ramble  through  those  dark  ancient  castles,  to  lie 
with  little  Otto  and  Brother  John  in  the  high  belfry-tower,  or  to 
sit  with  them  in  the  peaceful  quiet  of  the  sunny  old  monastery 
garden,  for,  of  all  the  story,  I  love  best  those  early  peaceful  years 
that  little  Otto  spent  in  the  dear  old  Wbite  Cross  on  the  Hill 

Poor  little  Otto's  life  was  a  stony  and  a  thorny  pathway, 
and  it  is  well  for  all  of  us  nowadays  that  we  walk  it  infancy 
and  not  in  truth. 


The   Dragon's  House. 

|P  from  the  gray  rocks,  rising  sheer  and  bald 
and  bare,  stood  the  walls  and  towers  of  Cas- 
tle Drachenhausen.  A  great  gate-way,  with 
a  heavy  iron-pointed  portcullis  hanging  sus- 
pended in  the  dim  arch  above,  yawned  blackly 
upon  the  bascule  or  falling  drawbridge  that  spanned  a  chasm 
between  the  blank  stone  walls  and  the  roadway  that  ran 
winding  down  the  steep  rocky  slope  to  the  little  valley  just 
beneath.  There  in  the  lap  of  the  hills  around  stood  clus- 
tered the  wretched  straw-thatched  huts  of  the  peasants  be- 
longing to  the  castle  —  miserable  serfs  who,  half  timid,  half 


4  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE. 

fierce,  tilled  their  poor  patches  of  ground,  wrenching  from 
the  hard  soil  barely  enough  to  keep  body  and  soul  together. 
Among  those  vile  hovels  played  the  little  children  like  foxes 
about  their  dens,  their  wild,  fierce  eyes  peering  out  from 
under  a  mat  of  tangled  yellow  hair. 

Beyond  these  squalid  huts  lay  the  rushing,  foaming  river, 
spanned  by  a  high,  rude,  stone  bridge  where  the  road  from 
the  castle  crossed  it,  and  beyond  the  river  stretched  the 
great,  black  forest,  within  whose  gloomy  depths  the  savage 
wild  beasts  made  their  lair,  and  where  in  winter  time  the 
howling  wolves  coursed  their  flying  prey  across  the  moonlit 
snow  and  under  the  net-work  of  the  black  shadows  from  the 
naked  boughs  above. 

The  watchman  in  the  cold,  windy  bartizan  or  watch- 
tower  that  clung  to  the  gray  walls  above  the  castle  gate- 
way, looked  from  his  narrow  window,  where  the  wind  piped 
and  hummed,  across  the  tree-tops  that  rolled  in  endless  bil- 
lows of  green,  over  hill  and  over  valley  to  the  blue  and  dis- 
tant slope  of  the  Keiserberg,  where,  on  the  mountain  side, 
glimmered  far  away  the  walls  of  Castle  Trutz-Drachen. 

Within  the  massive  stone  walls  through  which  the  gaping 
gateway  led,  three  great  cheerless  brick  buildings,  so  forbid- 
ding that  even  the  yellow  sunlight  could  not  light  them  into 
brightness,  looked  down,  with  row  upon  row  of  windows, 
upon  three  sides  of  the  bleak,  stone  courtyard.  Back  of  and 
above  them  clustered  a  jumble  of  other  buildings,  tower  and 
turret,  one  high -peaked  roof  overtopping  another. 


THERE  THEY  SAT,  JUST  AS  LITTLE  CHILDREN  IN  THE  TOWN  MIGHT  SIT  UPON  THEIR 

FATHER'S  DOOR-STEP. 


THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE.  7 

The  great  house  in  the  centre  was  the  Baron's  Hall,  the 
part  to  the  left  was  called  the  Roderhausen ;  between  the  two 
stood  a  huge  square  pile,  rising  dizzily  up  into  the  clear  air 
high  above  the  rest — the  great  Melchior  Tower. 

At  the  top  clustered  a  jumble  of  buildings  hanging  high 
aloft  in  the  windy  space ;  a  crooked  wooden  belfry,  a  tall, 
narrow  watch-tower,  and  a  rude  wooden  house  that  clung 
partly  to  the  roof  of  the  great  tower  and  partly  to  the 
walls. 

From  the  chimney  of  this  crazy  hut  a  thin  thread  of  smoke 
would  now  and  then  rise  into  the  air,  for  there  were  folk  liv- 
ing far  up  in  that  empty,  airy  desert,  and  oftentimes  wild, 
uncouth  little  children  were  seen  playing  on  the  edge  of  the 
dizzy  height,  or  sitting  with  their  bare  legs  hanging  down 
over  the  sheer  depths,  as  they  gazed  below  at  what  was 
going  on  in  the  court-yard.  There  they  sat,  just  as  little 
children  in  the  town  might  sit  upon  their  father's  door-step  ; 
and  as  the  sparrows  might  fly  around  the  feet  of  the  little 
town  children,  so  the  circling  flocks  of  rooks  and  daws  flew 
around  the  feet  of  these  air-born  creatures. 

It  was  Schwartz  Carl  and  his  wife  and  little  ones  who 
lived  far  up  there  in  the  Melchior  Tower,  for  it  overlooked 
the  top  of  the  hill  behind  the  castle  and  so  down  into  the 
valley  upon  the  further  side.  There,  day  after  day,  Schwartz 
Carl  kept  watch  upon  the  gray  road  that  ran  like  a  ribbon 
through  the  valley,  from  the  rich  town  of  Gruenstaldt  to  the 
rich  town  of  Staffenburgen,  where  passed  mercnant  cara- 


8  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE. 

vans  from  the  one  to  the  other — for  the  lord  of  Drachen* 
hausen  was  a  robber  baron. 

Dong  !  Dong  !  The  great  alarm  bell  would  suddenly 
ring  out  from  the  belfry  high  up  upon  the  Melchior  Tower. 
Dong !  Dong  !  Till  the  rooks  and  daws  whirled  clamor- 
ing and  screaming.  Dong !  Dong !  Till  the  fierce  wolf- 
hounds in  the  rocky  kennels  behind  the  castle  stables  howled 
dismally  in  answer.  Dong  !  Dong  ! — Dong  !  Dong  ! 

Then  would  follow  a  great  noise  and  uproar  and  hurry 
in  the  castle  court-yard  below  ;  men  shouting  and  calling  to 
one  another,  the  ringing  of  armor,  and  the  clatter  of  horses' 
hoofs  upon  the  hard  stone.  With  the  creaking  and  groan- 
ing of  the  windlass  the  iron-pointed  portcullis  would  be  slowly 
raised,  and  with  a  clank  and  rattle  and  clash  of  iron  chains 
the  drawbridge  would  fall  crashing.  Then  over  it  would 
thunder  horse  and  man,  clattering  away  down  the  winding, 
stony  pathway,  until  the  great  forest  would  swallow  them, 
and  they  would  be  gone. 

Then  for  a  while  peace  would  fall  upon  the  castle  court- 
yard, the  cock  would  crow,  the  cook  would  scold  a  lazy  maid, 
and  Gretchen,  leaning  out  of  a  window,  would  sing  a  snatch 
of  a  song,  just  as  though  it  were  a  peaceful  farm-house,  in- 
stead of  a  den  of  robbers. 

Maybe  it  would  be  evening  before  the  men  would  return 
once  more.  Perhaps  one  would  have  a  bloody  cloth  bound 
about  his  head,  perhaps  one  would  carry  his  arm  in  a  sling ; 
perhaps  one— maybe  more  than  one — would  be  left  behind, 


THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE.  y 

never  to  return  again,  and  soon  forgotten  by  all  excepting 
some  poor  woman  who  would  weep  silently  in  the  loneliness 
of  her  daily  work. 

Nearly  always  the  adventurers  would  bring  back  with 
them  pack-horses  laden  with  bales  of  goods.  Sometimes, 
besides  these,  they  would  return  with  a  poor  soul,  his 
hands  tied  behind  his  back  and  his  feet  beneath  the  horse's 
body,  his  fur  cloak  and  his  flat  cap  wofully  awry.  A  while 
he  would  disappear  in  some  gloomy  cell  of  the  dungeon- 
keep,  until  an  envoy  would  come  from  the  town  with  a  fat 
purse,  when  his  ransom  would  be  paid,  the  dungeon  would 
disgorge  him,  and  he  would  be  allowed  to  go  upon  his  way 
again. 

One  man  always  rode  beside  Baron  Conrad  in  his  expe- 
ditions and  adventures — a  short,  deep-chested,  broad-shoul- 
dered man,  with  sinewy  arms  so  long  that  when  he  stood  his 
hands  hung  nearly  to  his  knees. 

His  coarse,  close-clipped  hair  came  so  low  upon  his  brow 
that  only  a  strip  of  forehead  showed  between  it  and  his  bushy, 
black  eyebrows.  One  eye  was  blind ;  the  other  twinkled 
and  gleamed  like  a  spark  under  the  penthouse  of  his  brows. 
Many  folk  said  that  the  one-eyed  Hans  had  drunk  beer  with 
the  Hill-man,  who  had  given  him  the  strength  of  ten,  for  he 
could  bend  an  iron  spit  like  a  hazel  twig,  and  could  lift  a  bar- 
rel of  wine  from  the  floor  to  his  head  as  easily  as  though  it 
were  a  basket  of  eggs. 

As  for  the  one-eyed  Hans  he  never  said  that  he  had  not 


10 


THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE. 


drunk  beer  with  the  Hill-man,  for  he  liked  the  credit  that 
such  reports  gave  him  with  the  other  folk.  And  so,  like  a 
half  savage  mastiff,  faithful  to  death  to  his  master,  but  to  him 
alone,  he  went  his  sullen  way  and  lived  his  sullen  life  within 
the  castle  walls,  half  respected,  half  feared  by  the  other  in- 
mates, for  it  was  dangerous  trifling  with  the  one-eyed  Hans. 


II. 


How  the  Baron  went  Forth  to  Shear. 

ARON  CONRAD  and  Baroness  Matilda  sat 
together  at  their  morning  meal ;  below  their 
raised  seats  stretched  the  long,  heavy  wooden 
table,  loaded  with  coarse  food — black  bread, 
boiled  cabbage,  bacon,  eggs,  a  great  chine 
from  a  wild  boar,  sausages,  such  as  we  eat  nowadays,  and 
flagons  and  jars  of  beer  and  wine.  Along  the  board  sat 
ranged  in  the  order  of  the  household  the  followers  and  re- 


12  HOW  THE  BARON  WENT  FORTH  TO  SHEAR. 

tainers.  Four  or  five  slatternly  women  and  girls  served  the 
others  as  they  fed  noisily  at  the  table,  moving  here  and  there 
behind  the  men  with  wooden  or  pewter  dishes  of  food,  now 
and  then  laughing  at  the  jests  that  passed  or  joining  in  the 
talk.  A  huge  fire  blazed  and  crackled  and  roared  in  the 
great  open  fireplace,  before  which  were  stretched  two  fierce, 
shaggy,  wolfish-looking  hounds.  Outside,  the  rain  beat  upon 
the  roof  or  ran  trickling  from  the  eaves,  and  every  now  and 
then  a  chill  draught  of  wind  would  breathe  through  the  open 
windows  of  the  great  black  dining-hall  and  set  the  fire  roaring. 

Along  the  dull-gray  wall  of  stone  hung  pieces  of  armor, 
and  swords  and  lances,  and  great  branching  antlers  of  the 
stag.  Overhead  arched  the  rude,  heavy,  oaken  beams,  black- 
ened with  age  and  smoke,  and  underfoot  was  a  chill  pavement 
of  stone. 

Upon  Baron  Conrad's  shoulder  leaned  the  pale,  slender, 
yellow-haired  Baroness,  the  only  one  in  all  the  world  with 
whom  the  fierce  lord  of  Drachenhausen  softened  to  gentle- 
ness, the  only  one  upon  whom  his  savage  brows  looked 
kindly,  and  to  whom  his  harsh  voice  softened  with  love. 

The  Baroness  was  talking  to  her  husband  in  a  low  voice, 
as  he  looked  down  into  her  pale  face,  with  its  gentle  blue 
eyes. 

"  And  wilt  thou  not,  then,"  said  she,  "  do  that  one  thing 
for  me  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  he  growled,  in  his  deep  voice,  "  I  cannot  promise 
thee  never  more  to  attack  the  towns-people  in  the  valley  over 


HOW  THE  BARON  WENT  FORTH  TO  SHEAR.  73 

yonder.  How  else  could  I  live  an'  I  did  not  take  from  the  fat 
town  hogs  to  fill  our  own  larder  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Baroness,  "  thou  couldst  live  as  some 
others  do,  for  all  do  not  rob  the  burgher  folk  as  thou  dost. 
Alas  !  mishap  will  come  upon  thee  some  day,  and  if  thou 
shouldst  be  slain,  what  then  would  come  of  me  ?  " 

"  Prut,"  said  the  Baron,  "  thy  foolish  fears  !  "  But  he  laid 
his  rough,  hairy  hand  softly  upon  the  Baroness'  head  and 
stroked  her  yellow  hair. 

"  For  my  sake,  Conrad,"  whispered  the  Baroness. 

A  pause  followed.  The  Baron  sat  looking  thoughtfully 
down  into  the  Baroness'  face.  A  moment  more,  and  he 
might  have  promised  what  she  besought ;  a  moment  more, 
and  he  might  have  been  saved  all  the  bitter  trouble  that  was 
to  follow.  But  it  was  not  to  be. 

Suddenly  a  harsh  sound  broke  the  quietness  of  all  into  a 
confusion  of  noises.  Dong !  Dong  ! — it  was  the  great  alarm- 
bell  from  Melchior's  Tower. 

The  Baron  started  at  the  sound.  He  sat  for  a  moment  or 
two  with  his  hand  clinched  upon  the  arm  of  his  seat  as  though 
about  to  rise,  then  he  sunk  back  into  his  chair  again. 

All  the  others  had  risen  tumultuously  from  the  table,  and 
now  stood  looking  at  him,  awaiting  his  orders. 

"  For  my  sake,  Conrad,"  said  the  Baroness  again. 

Dong !  dong !  rang  the  alarm-bell.  The  Baron  sat  with 
his  eyes  bent  upon  the  floor,  scowling  blackly. 

The  Baroness  took  his  hand  in  both  of  hers.     "  For  my 


<4  HOW  THE  BARON  WENT  FORTH  TO  SHEAR. 

sake,"  she  pleaded,  and  the  tears  filled  her  blue  eyes  as  she 
looked  up  at  him,  "  do  not  go  this  time." 

From  the  courtyard  without  came  the  sound  of  horses' 
hoofs  clashing  against  the  stone  pavement,  and  those  in  the 
hall  stood  watching  and  wondering  at  this  strange  delay  of 
the  Lord  Baron.  Just  then  the  door  opened  and  one  came 
pushing  past  the  rest ;  it  was  the  one-eyed  Hans.  He  came 
straight  to  where  the  Baron  sat,  and,  leaning  over,  whispered 
something  into  his  master's  ear. 

"  For  my  sake,"  implored  the  Baroness  again ;  but  the 
scale  was  turned.  The  Baron  pushed  back  his  chair  heavily 
and  rose  to  his  feet.  "  Forward  !  "  he  roared,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  and  a  great  shout  went  up  in  answer  as  he  strode 
clanking  down  the  hall  and  out  of  the  open  door. 

The  Baroness  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  wept. 

"  Nevermind,  little  bird,"  said  old  Ursela,  the  nurse,  sooth- 
ingly ;  "  he  will  come  back  to  thee  again  as  he  has  come  back 
to  t;hee  before." 

But  the  poor  young  Baroness  continued  weeping  with  her 
face  buried  in  her  hands,  because  he  had  not  done  that  thing 
she  had  asked. 

A  white  young  face  framed  in  yellow  hair  looked  out  into 
the  courtyard  from  a  window  above  ;  but  if  Baron  Conrad  of 
Drachenhausen  saw  it  from  beneath  the  bars  of  his  shining 
helmet,  he  made  no  sign. 

"  Forward  !  "  he  cried  again. 


AWAY   THEY   RODE   WITH    CLASHING   HOOFS   AND   RINGING   ARMOR. 


HOW  THE  BARON  WENT  FORTH  TO  SHEAR.  i7 

Down  thundered  the  drawbridge,  and  away  they  rode  with 
clashing  hoofs  and  ringing  armor  through  the  gray  shroud 
of  drilling  rain. 

The  day  had  passed  and  the  evening  had  come,  and  the 
Baroness  and  her  women  sat  beside  a  roaring  fire.  All  were 
chattering  and  talking  and  laughing  but  two — the  fair  young 
Baroness  and  old  Ursela  ;  the  one  sat  listening,  listening,  lis- 
tening, the  other  sat  with  her  chin  resting  in  the  palm  of  her 
hand,  silently  watching  her  young  mistress.  The  night  was 
falling  gray  and  chill,  when  suddenly  the  clear  notes  of  a  bugle 
rang  from  without  the  castle  walls.  The  young  Baroness 
started,  and  the  rosy  light  flashed  up  into  her  pale  cheeks. 

"  Yes,  good,"  said  old  Ursela ;  "  the  red  fox  has  come  back 
to  his  den  again,  and  I  warrant  he  brings  a  fat  town  goose  in 
his  mouth  ;  now  we'll  have  fine  clothes  to  wear,  and  thou 
another  gold  chain  to  hang  about  thy  pretty  neck." 

The  young  Baroness  laughed  merrily  at  the  old  woman's 
speech.  "  This  time,"  said  she,  "  I  will  choose  a  string  of 
pearls  like  that  one  my  aunt  used  to  wear,  and  which  I  had 
about  my  neck  when  Conrad  first  saw  me." 

Minute  after  minute  passed  ;  the  Baroness  sat  nervously 
playing  with  a  bracelet  of  golden  beads  about  her  wrist. 
"  How  long  he  stays,"  said  she. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ursela;  "  but  it  is  not  cousin  wish  that  holds 
him  by  the  coat." 


§8  HOW  THE  BARON  WENT  FORTH  TO  SHEAR. 

As  she  spoke,  a  door  banged  in  the  passageway  without 
and  the  ring  of  iron  footsteps  sounded  upon  the  stone  floor. 
Clank !  clank  !  clank  ! 

The  Baroness  rose  to  her  feet,  her  face  all  alight.  The 
door  opened;  then  the  flush  of  joy  faded  away  and  the 
face  grew  white,  white,  white.  One  hand  clutched  the 
back  of  the  bench  whereon  she  had  been  sitting,  the  other 
hand  pressed  tightly  against  her  side. 

It  was  Hans  the  one-eyed  who  stood  in  the  doorway, 
and  black  trouble  sat  on  his  brow ;  all  were  looking  at  him 
waiting. 

"  Conrad,"  whispered  the  Baroness,  at  last.  "  Where  is 
Conrad  ?  Where  is  your  master  ?  "  and  even  her  lips  were 
white  as  she  spoke. 

The  one-eyed  Hans  said  nothing. 

Just  then  came  the  noise  of  men's  voices  in  the  corridor 
and  the  shuffle  and  scuffle  of  feet  carrying  a  heavy  load. 
Nearer  and  nearer  they  came,  and  one-eyed  Hans  stood  aside. 
Six  men  came  struggling  through  the  doorway,  carrying  a 
litter,  and  on  the  litter  lay  the  great  Baron  Conrad.  The 
flaming  torch  thrust  into  the  iron  bracket  against  the  wall 
flashed  up  with  the  draught  of  air  from  the  open  door,  and 
the  light  fell  upon  the  white  face  and  the  closed  eyes,  and 
showed  upon  his  body  armor  a  great  red  stain  that  was  not 
the  stain  of  rust. 

Suddenly  Ursela  cried  out  in  a  sharp,  shrill  voice,  "  Catch 
her,  she  falls  !  " 


HOW  THE  BARON  WENT  FORTH  TO  SHEAR.  ig 

It  was  the  Baroness. 

Then  the  old  crone  turned  fiercely  upon  the  one-eyed 
Hans.  "  Thou  fool  !  "  she  cried,  "  why  didst  thou  bring  him 
here  ?  Thou  hast  killed  thy  lady  !  " 

"  I  did  not  know,"  said  the  one-eyed  Hans,  stupidly. 


HI.:. 

How  the  Baron  came  Home  Shorn. 

UT  Baron  Conrad  was  not  dead.     For  days  he 
lay  upon  his  hard  bed,  now  muttering  inco- 
herent words  beneath  his  red  beard,  now  rav- 
ing fiercely  with  the  fever  of  his  wound.     But 
one  day  he  woke  again  to  the  things  about  him. 
He  turned  his  head  first  to  the  one  side  and  then  to  the 
other ;  there  sat  Schwartz  Carl  and  the  one-eyed  Hans.     Two 
or  three  other  retainers  stood  by  a  great  window  that  looked 


HOW  THE  BARON  CAME  HOME  SHORN.  2\ 

out  into  the  courtyard  beneath,  jesting  and  laughing  to- 
gether in  low  tones,  and  one  lay  upon  the  heavy  oaken  bench 
that  stood  along  by  the  wall,  snoring  in  his  sleep. 

"  Where  is  your  lady?"  said  the  Baron,  presently;  "and 
why  is  she  not  with  me  at  this  time  ?  " 

The  man  that  lay  upon  the  bench  started  up  at  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  and  those  at  the  window  came  hurrying  to  his 
bedside.  But  Schwartz  Carl  and  the  one-eyed  Hans  looked 
at  one  another,  and  neither  of  them  spoke.  The  Baron  saw 
the  look  and  in  it  read  a  certain  meaning  that  brought  him  to 
his  elbow,  though  only  to  sink  back  upon  his  pillow  again 
with  a  groan. 

"  Why  do  you  not  answer  me  ?  "  said  he  at  last,  in  a  hol- 
low voice ;  then  to  the  one-eyed  Hans,  "  Hast  no  tongue,  fool, 
that  thou  standest  gaping  there  like  a  fish  ?  Answer  me, 
where  is  thy  mistress  ?  " 

"  I — I  do  not  know,"  stammered  poor  Hans. 

For  a  while  the  Baron  lay  silently  looking  from  one  face 
to  the  other,  then  he  spoke  again.  "  How  long  have  I  been 
lying  here  ?  "  said  he. 

"A  sennight,  my  lord/'  said  Master  Rudolph,  the  steward, 
who  had  come  into  the  room  and  who  now  stood  among  the 
others  at  the  bedside. 

"  A  sennight,"  repeated  the  Baron,  in  a  low  voice,  and  then 
to  Master  Rudolph,  "  And  has  the  Baroness  been  often  beside 
me  in  that  time  ?  "  Master  Rudolph  hesitated.  "  Answer  me," 
said  the  Baron,  harshly 


22       HOW  THE  BARON  CAME  HOME  SHORN. 

«<  Not — not  often,"  said  Master  Rudolph,  hesitatingly. 

The  Baron  lay  silent  for  a  long  time.  At  last  he  passed 
his  hands  over  his  face  and  held  them  there  for  a  minute,  then 
of  a  sudden,  before  anyone  knew  what  he  was  about  to  do, 
he  rose  upon  his  elbow  and  then  sat  upright  upon  the  bed. 
The  green  wound  broke  out  afresh  and  a  dark  red  spot  grew 
and  spread  upon  the  linen  wrappings  ;  his  face  was  drawn  and 
haggard  with  the  pain  of  his  moving,  and  his  eyes  wild  and 
bloodshot.  Great  drops  of  sweat  gathered  and  stood  upon  his 
forehead  as  he  sat  there  swaying  slightly  from  side  to  side. 

"  My  shoes,"  said  he,  hoarsely. 

Master  Rudolph  stepped  forward.  "  But,  my  Lord 
Baron/'  he  began  and  then  stopped  short,  for  the  Baron  shot 
him  such  a  look  that  his  tongue  stood  still  in  his  head. 

Hans  saw  that  look  out  of  his  one  eye.  Down  he 
dropped  upon  his  knees  and,  fumbling  under  the  bed,  brought 
forth  a  pair  of  soft  leathern  shoes,  which  he  slipped  upon  the 
Baron's  feet  and  then  laced  the  thongs  above  the  instep. 

"  Your  shoulder,"  said  the  Baron.  He  rose  slowly  to  his 
feet,  gripping  Hans  in  the  stress  of  his  agony  until  the  fellow 
winced  again.  For  a  moment  he  stood  as  though  gathering 
strength,  then  doggedly  started  forth  upon  that  quest  which 
he  had  set  upon  himself. 

At  the  door  he  stopped  for  a  moment  as  though  overcome 
by  his  weakness,  and  there  Master  Nicholas,  his  cousin,  met 
him  ;  for  the  steward  had  sent  one  of  the  retainers  to  tell  the 
old  man  what  the  Baron  was  about  to  do. 


NO   ONE  WAS  WITHIN   BUT  OLD   URSELA,   WHO  SAT   CROONING   OVER  A   FIRE. 


HOW  THE  BARON  CAME  HOME  SHORN.  23 

"  Thou  must  go  back  again,  Conrad/'  said  Master  Nicho- 
las ;  "  thou  art  not  fit  to  be  abroad." 

The  Baron  answered  him  never  a  word,  but  he  glared  at 
him  from  out  of  his  bloodshot  eyes  and  ground  his  teeth  to- 
gether. Then  he  started  forth  again  upon  his  way. 

Down  the  long  hall  he  went,  slowly  and  laboriously,  the 
others  following  silently  behind  him,  then  up  the  steep  wind- 
ing stairs,  step  by  step,  now  and  then  stopping  to  lean 
against  the  wall.  So  he  reached  a  long  and  gloomy  passage- 
way lit  only  by  the  light  of  a  little  window  at  the  further  end. 

He  stopped  at  the  door  of  one  of  the  rooms  that  opened 
into  this  passage-way,  stood  for  a  moment,  then  he  pushed  it 
open. 

No  one  was  within  but  old  Ursela,  who  sat  crooning  over 
a  fire  with  a  bundle  upon  her  knees.  She  did  not  see  the 
Baron  or  know  that  he  was  there. 

"  Where  is  your  lady  ?  "  said  he,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

Then  the  old  nurse  looked  up  with  a  start.  "  Jesu  bless 
us,"  cried  she,  and  crossed  herself. 

"  Where  is  your  lady  ?  "  said  the  Baron  again,  in  the  same 
hoarse  voice  ;  and  then,  not  waiting  for  an  answer,  "  Is  she 
dead?" 

The  old  woman  looked  at  him  for  a  minute  blinking  her 
watery  eyes,  and  then  suddenly  broke  into  a  shrill,  long- 
drawn  wail.  The  Baron  needed  to  hear  no  more. 

As  though  in  answer  to  the  old  woman's  cry,  a  thin  piping 
complaint  came  from  the  bundle  in  her  lap. 


26  HOW  THE  BARON  CAME  HOME  SHORN. 

At  the  sound  the  red  blood  flashed  up  into  the  Baron's 
face.  "  What  is  that  you  have  there  ?  "  said  he,  pointing  to 
the  bundle  upon  the  old  woman's  knees. 

She  drew  back  the  coverings  and  there  lay  a  poor,  weak, 
little  baby,  that  once  again  raised  its  faint  reedy  pipe. 

"  It  is  your  son/'  said  Ursela,  "  that  the  dear  Baroness  left 
behind  her  when  the  holy  angels  took  her  to  Paradise.  She 
blessed  him  and  called  him  Otto  before  she  left  us/' 


IV. 

The  White  Cross  on  the  Hill. 

HERE  the  glassy  waters  of  the  River  Rhine, 
holding  upon  its  bosom  a  mimic  picture  of 
the  blue  sky  and  white  clouds  floating  above, 
runs  smoothly  around  a  jutting  point  of 
land,  St.  Michaelsburg,  rising  from  the  reedy 
banks  of  the  stream,  sweeps  up  with  a  smooth  swell  until  it 
cuts  sharp  and  clear  against  the  sky.  Stubby  vineyards  cov- 
ered its  earthy  breast,  and  field  and  garden  and  orchard 
crowned  its  brow,  where  lay  the  Monastery  of  St.  Michaels- 
burg — "  The  White  Cross  on  the  Hill!'  There  within  the 
white  walls,  where  the  warm  yellow  sunlight  slept,  all  was 
peaceful  quietness,  broken  only  now  and  then  by  the  crowing 


28  THE  WHITE  CROSS  ON  THE  HILL. 

of  the  cock  or  the  clamorous  cackle  of  a  hen,  the  lowing  of 
kine  or  the  bleating  of  goats,  a  solitary  voice  in  prayer,  the 
faint  accord  of  distant  singing,  or  the  resonant  toll  of  the 
monastery  bell  from  the  high-peaked  belfry  that  overlooked 
the  hill  and  valley  and  the  smooth,  far-winding  stream.  No 
other  sounds  broke  the  stillness,  for  in  this  peaceful  haven  was 
never  heard  the  clash  of  armor,  the  ring  of  iron-shod  hoofs, 
or  the  hoarse  call  to  arms. 

All  men  were  not  wicked  and  cruel  and  fierce  in  that  dark, 
far-away  age ;  all  were  not  robbers  and  terror-spreading 
tyrants,  even  in  that  time  when  men's  hands  were  against 
their  neighbors,  and  war  and  rapine  dwelt  in  place  of  peace 
and  justice. 

Abbot  Otto,  of  St.  Michaelsburg,  was  a  gentle,  patient,  pale- 
faced  old  man  ;  his  white  hands  were  soft  and  smooth,  and  no 
one  would  have  thought  that  they  could  have  known  the 
harsh  touch  of  sword-hilt  and  lance.  And  yet,  in  the  days  of 
the  Emperor  Frederick — the  grandson  of  the  great  Red-beard 
— no  one  stood  higher  in  the  prowess  of  arms  than  he.  But 
all  at  once — for  why,  no  man  could  tell — a  change  came  over 
him,  and  in  the  flower  of  his  youth  and  fame  and  growing 
power  he  gave  up  everything  in  life  and  entered  the  quiet 
sanctuary  of  that  white  monastery  on  the  hill-side,  so  faraway 
from  the  tumult  and  the  conflict  of  the  world  in  which  he  had 
lived. 

Some  said  that  it  was  because  the  lady  he  had  loved 
had  loved  his  brother,  and  that  when  they  were  mar- 


ABBOT   OTTO,    OF   ST.    MICHAEI.SBURG,    WAS   A    GENTLE,    PATIENT,    PALE-FACED   OLD    MAN. 


THE  WHITE  CROSS  ON  THE  H,LL.  3, 

ried  Otto  of  Wolbergen  had  left  the  church  with  a  broken 
heart. 

But  such  stories  are  old  songs  that  have  been  sung  be- 
fore. 

Clatter!  clatter!  Jingle!  jingle!  It  was  a  full-armed 
knight  that  came  riding  up  the  steep  hill  road  that  wound  from 
left  to  right  and  right  to  left  amid  the  vineyards  on  the  slopes 
of  St.  Michaelsburg.  Polished  helm  and  corselet  blazed  in 
the  noon  sunlight,  for  no  knight  in  those  days  dared  to  ride 
the  roads  except  in  full  armor.  In  front  of  him  the  solitary 
knight  carried  a  bundle  wrapped  in  the  folds  of  his  coarse 
gray  cloak. 

It  was  a  sorely  sick  man  that  rode  up  the  heights  of 
St.  Michaelsburg.  His  head  hung  upon  his  breast  through 
the  faintness  of  weariness  and  pain  ;  for  it  was  the  Baron 
Conrad. 

He  had  left  his  bed  of  sickness  that  morning,  had  saddled 
his  horse  in  the  gray  dawn  with  his  own  hands,  and  had  ridden 
away  into  the  misty  twilight  of  the  forest  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  anyone  excepting  the  porter,  who,  winking  and  blink- 
ing in  the  bewilderment  of  his  broken  slumber,  had  opened 
the  gates  to  the  sick  man,  hardly  knowing  what  he  was  doing, 
until  he  beheld  his  master  far  away,  clattering  down  the  steep 
bridle-path. 

Eight  leagues  had  he  ridden  that  day  with  neither  a  stop 
nor  a  stay  ;  but  now  at  last  the  end  of  his  journey  had  corner 


p  THE  WHITE  CROSS  ON  THE  HILL. 

and  he  drew  rein  under  the  shade  of  the  great  wooden  gate- 
way of  St.  Michaelsburg. 

He  reached  up  to  the  knotted  rope  and  gave  it  a  pull,  and 
from  within  sounded  the  answering  ring  of  the  porter's  bell. 
By  and  by  a  little  wicket  opened  in  the  great  wooden  portals, 
and  the  gentle,  wrinkled  face  of  old  Brother  Benedict,  the 
porter,  peeped  out  at  the  strange  iron-clad  visitor  and  the 
great  black  war-horse,  streaked  and  wet  with  the  sweat  of  the 
journey,  flecked  and  dappled  with  flakes  of  foam.  A  few 
words  passed  between  them,  and  then  the  little  window  was 
closed  again ;  and  within,  the  shuffling  pat  of  the  sandalled 
feet  sounded  fainter  and  fainter,  as  Brother  Benedict  bore  the 
message  from  Baron  Conrad  to  Abbot  Otto,  and  the  mail- 
clad  figure  was  left  alone,  sitting  there  as  silent  as  a  statue. 

By  and  by  the  footsteps  sounded  again  ;  there  came  a 
noise  of  clattering  chains  and  the  rattle  of  the  key  in  the  lock, 
and  the  rasping  of  the  bolts  dragged  back.  Then  the  gate 
swung  slowly  open,  and  Baron  Conrad  rode  into  the  shelter 
of  the  White  Cross,  and  as  the  hoofs  of  his  war-horse  clashed 
upon  the  stones  of  the  courtyard  within,  the  wooden  gate 
swung  slowly  to  behind  him. 

Abbot  Otto  stood  by  the  table  when  Baron  Conrad  en- 
tered the  high-vaulted  room  from  the  farther  end.  The  light 
from  the  oriel  window  behind  the  old  man  shed  broken  rays 
of  light  upon  him,  and  seemed  to  frame  his  thin  gray  hairs 
with  a  golden  glory.  His  white,  delicate  hand  rested  upon 


THE  WHITE  CROSS  ON  THE  HILL.  jj 

the  table  beside  him,  and  upon  some  sheets  of  parchment  cov- 
ered with  rows  of  ancient  Greek  writing  which  he  had  been 
engaged  in  deciphering. 

Clank  !  clank !  clank !  Baron  Conrad  strode  across  the 
stone  floor,  and  then  stopped  short  in  front  of  the  good  old 
man. 

"  What  dost  thou  seek  here,  my  son  ?  "  said  the  Abbot. 

"  I  seek  sanctuary  for  my  son  and  thy  brother's  grand- 
son," said  the  Baron  Conrad,  and  he  flung  back  the  folds  of 
his  cloak  and  showed  the  face  of  the  sleeping  babe. 

For  a  while  the  Abbot  said  nothing,  but  stood  gazing 
dreamily  at  the  baby.  After  a  while  he  looked  up.  "  And  the 
child's  mother,"  said  he — "  what  hath  she  to  say  at  this  ?  " 

"She  hath  naught  to  say,"  said  Baron  Conrad,  hoarsely, 
and  then  stopped  short  in  his  speech.  "  She  is  dead,"  said 
he,  at  last,  in  a  husky  voice,  "  and  is  with  God's  angels  in 
paradise." 

The  Abbot  looked  intently  in  the  Baron's  face.  "So!" 
said  he,  under  his  breath,  and  then  for  the  first  time  noticed 
how  white  and  drawn  was  the  Baron's  face.  "  Art  sick  thy- 
self? "  he  asked. 

"  Ay,"  said  the  Baron,  "  I  have  come  from  death's  door. 
But  that  is  no  matter.  Wilt  thou  take  this  little  babe  into  sanc- 
tuary ?  My  house  is  a  vile,  rough  place,  and  not  fit  for  such 
as  he,  and  his  mother  with  the  blessed  saints  in  heaven." 
And  once  more  Conrad  of  Drachenhausen's  face  began  twitch- 
ing with  the  pain  of  his  thoughts, 
3 


34  THE  WHITE  CROSS  ON  THE  HILL. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  man,  gently,  "  he  shall  live  here/'  and 
he  stretched  out  his  hands  and  took  the  babe.  "  Would," 
said  he,  "  that  all  the  little  children  in  these  dark  times  might 
be  thus  brought  to  the  house  of  God,  and  there  learn  mercy 
and  peace,  instead  of  rapine  and  war." 

For  a  while  he  stood  looking  down  in  silence  at  the  baby 
in  his  arms,  but  with  his  mind  far  away  upon  other  things. 
At  last  he  roused  himself  with  a  start.  "  And  thou,"  said  he  to 
the  Baron  Conrad — "hath  not  thy  heart  been  chastened  and 
softened  by  this  ?  Surely  thou  wilt  not  go  back  to  thy  old 
life  of  rapine  and  extortion  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Baron  Conrad,  gruffly,  "  I  will  rob  the  city 
swine  no  longer,  for  that  was  the  last  thing  that  my  dear  one 
asked  of  me." 

The  old  Abbot's  face  lit  up  with  a  smile.  "  I  am  right 
glad  that  thy  heart  was  softened,  and  that  thou  art  willing  at 
last  to  cease  from  war  and  violence." 

"  Nay,"  cried  the  Baron,  roughly,  "  I  said  nothing  of  ceas- 
ing from  war.  By  heaven,  no !  I  will  have  revenge  !  "  And 
he  clashed  his  iron  foot  upon  the  floor  and  clinched  his  fists 
and  ground  his  teeth  together.  "Listen,"  said  he,  "and  I 
will  tell  thee  how  my  troubles  happened.  A  fortnight  ago  I 
rode  out  upon  an  expedition  against  a  caravan  of  fat  burghers 
in  the  valley  of  Gruenhoffen.  They  outnumbered  us  many  to 
one,  but  city  swine  such  as  they  are  not  of  the  stuff  to  stand 
against  our  kind  for  a  long  time.  Nevertheless,  while  the 
men-at-arms  who  guarded  the  caravan  were  staying  us  with 


WHILE   I   LAY    THERE  WITH    MY    HORSE    UPON     ME,    BARON    FREDERICK    RAN    ME    DOWN 

WITH    HIS   LANCK." 


THE  WHITE  CROSS  ON  THE  HILL.  37 

pike  and  cross-bow  from  behind  a  tree  which  they  had  felled  in 
front  of  a  high  bridge  the  others  had  driven  the  pack-horses 
off,  so  that  by  the  time  we  had  forced  the  bridge  they  were 
a  league  or  more  away.  We  pushed  after  them  as  hard  as 
we  were  able,  but  when  we  came  up  with  them  we  found  that 
they  had  been  joined  by  Baron  Frederick  of  Trutz-Drachen, 
to  whom  for  three  years  and  more  the  burghers  of  Gruenstadt 
have  been  paying  a  tribute  for  his  protection  against  others. 
Then  again  they  made  a  stand,  and  this  time  the  Baron 
Frederick  himself  was  with  them.  But  though  the  dogs 
fought  well,  we  were  forcing  them  back,  and  might  have 
got  the  better  of  them,  had  not  my  horse  stumbled  upon  a 
sloping  stone,  and  so  fell  and  rolled  over  upon  me.  While  I 
lay  there  with  my  horse  upon  me,  Baron  Frederick  ran  me 
down  with  his  lance,  and  gave  me  that  foul  wound  that  came 
so  near  to  slaying  me — and  did  slay  my  dear  wife.  Never- 
theless, my  men  were  able  to  bring  me  out  from  that  press 
and  away,  and  we  had  bitten  the  Trutz-Drachen  dogs  so  deep 
that  they  were  too  sore  to  follow  us,  and  so  let  us  go  our 
way  in  peace.  But  when  those  fools  of  mine  brought  me  to 
my  castle  they  bore  me  lying  upon  a  litter  to  my  wife's 
chamber.  There  she  beheld  me,  and,  thinking  me  dead, 
swooned  a  death-swoon,  so  that  she  only  lived  long  enough 
to  bless  her  new-born  babe  and  name  it  Otto,  for  you,  her 
father's  brother.  But,  by  heavens  !  I  will  have  revenge,  root 
and  branch,  upon  that  vile  tribe,  the  Roderburgs  of  Trutz- 
Drachen.  Their  great-grandsire  built  that  castle  in  scorn  of 


a*  THE  WHITE  CROSS  ON  THE  HILL. 

Baron  Casper  in  the  old  days ;  their  grandsire  slew  my 
father's  grandsire  ;  Baron  Nicholas  slew  two  of  our  kindred  ; 
and  now  this  Baron  Frederick  gives  me  that  foul  wound  and 
kills  my  dear  wife  through  my  body."  Here  the  Baron 
stopped  short ;  then  of  a  sudden,  shaking  his  fist  above  his 
head,  he  cried  out  in  his  hoarse  voice :  "  I  swear  by  all  the 
saints  in  heaven,  either  the  red  cock  shall  crow  over  the  roof 
of  Trutz-Drachen  or  else  it  shall  crow  over  my  house  !  The 
black  dog  shall  sit  on  Baron  Frederick's  shoulders  or  else  he 
shall  sit  on  mine!"  Again  he  stopped,  and  fixing  his  blazing 
eyes  upon  the  old  man,  "  Hearest  thou  that,  priest  ?  "  said  he, 
and  broke  into  a  great  boisterous  laugh. 

Abbot  Otto  sighed  heavily,  but  he  tried  no  further  to  per- 
suade the  other  into  different  thoughts. 

"  Thou  art  wounded,"  said  he,  at  last,  in  a  gentle  voice  ; 
"at  least  stay  here  with  us  until  thou  art  healed." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Baron,  roughly,  "  I  will  tarry  no  longer 
than  to  hear  thee  promise  to  care  for  my  child." 

"  I  promise,"  said  the  Abbot ;  "  but  lay  aside  thy  armor, 
and  rest." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Baron,  "  I  go  back  again  to-day." 

At  this  the  Abbot  cried  out  in  amazement:  "  Sure  thou, 
wounded  man,  would  not  take  that  long  journey  without  a 
due  stay  for  resting !  Think  !  Night  will  be  upon  thee  before 
thou  canst  reach  home  again,  and  the  forests  are  beset  with 
wolves." 

The  Baron  laughed.     "Those  are  not  the  wolves  I  fear," 


THE  WHITE  CROSS  ON  THE  HILL. 


39 


said  he.  "  Urge  me  no  further,  I  must  return  to-night;  yet  if 
thou  hast  a  mind  to  do  me  a  kindness  thou  canst  give  me 
some  food  to  eat  and  a  flask  of  your  golden  Michaelsburg ; 
beyond  these,  I  ask  no  further  favor  of  any  man,  be  he  priest 
or  layman." 

"  What  comfort  I  can  give  thee  thou  shalt  have,"  said  the 
Abbot,  in  his  patient  voice,  and  so  left  the  room  to  give  the 
needful  orders,  bearing  the  babe  with  him. 


V. 

How  Otto   Dwelt  at  St.  Michaelsburg. 

IO  the  poor,  little,  motherless  waif  lived 
among  the  old  monks  at  the  White  Cross 
on  the  hill,  thriving  and  growing  apace  un- 
til he  had  reached  eleven  or  twelve  years 
of  age  ;  a  slender,  fair-haired  little  fellow, 
with  a  strange,  quiet,  serious  manner. 

"  Poor  little  child  !  "  Old  Brother  Benedict  would  some- 
times say  to  the  others,  "poor  little  child  !  The  troubles  in 
which  he  was  born  must  have  broken  his  wits  like  a  glass 


HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.   MICHAELSRURG.  4/ 

cup.  What  think  ye  he  said  to  me  to-day  ?  '  Dear  Brother 
Benedict/  said  he,  '  dost  thou  shave  the  hair  off  of  the  top 
of  thy  head  so  that  the  dear  God  may  see  thy  thoughts  the 
better  ?  '  Think  of  that  now  !  "  and  the  good  old  man  shook 
with  silent  laughter. 

When  such  talk  came  to  the  good  Father  Abbot's  ears, 
he  smiled  quietly  to  himself.  "  It  may  be,"  said  he,  "  that 
the  wisdom  of  little  children  flies  higher  than  our  heavy  wits 
can  follow." 

At  least  Otto  was  not  slow  with  his  studies,  and  Brother 
Emmanuel,  who  taught  him  his  lessons,  said  more  than  once 
that,  if  his  wits  were  cracked  in  other  ways,  they  were  sound 
enough  in  Latin. 

Otto,  in  a  quaint,  simple  way  which  belonged  to  him,  was 
gentle  and  obedient  to  all.  But  there  was  one  among  the 
Brethren  of  St.  Michaelsburg  whom  he  loved  far  above  all 
the  rest — Brother  John,  a  poor  half-witted  fellow,  of  some 
twenty-five  or  thirty  years  of  age.  When  a  very  little  child, 
he  had  fallen  from  his  nurse's  arms  and  hurt  his  head,  and  as 
he  grew  up  into  boyhood,  and  showed  that  his  wits  had  been 
addled  by  his  fall,  his  family  knew  not  what  else  to  do  with 
him,  and  so  sent  him  off  to  the  Monastery  of  St.  Michaels- 
burg,  where  he  lived  his  simple,  witless  life  upon  a  sort  of 
sufferance,  as  though  he  were  a  tame,  harmless  animal. 

While  Otto  was  still  a  little  baby,  he  had  been  given 
into  Brother  John's  care.  Thereafter,  and  until  Otto  had 
grown  old  enough  to  care  for  himself,  poor  Brother  John 


42  HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.  MICHAELSBURG. 

never  left  his  little  charge,  night  or  day.  Oftentimes  the 
good  Father  Abbot,  coming  into  the  garden,  where  he 
loved  to  walk  alone  in  his  meditations,  would  find  the  poor, 
simple  Brother  sitting  under  the  shade  of  the  pear-tree,  close 
to  the  bee-hives,  rocking  the  little  baby  in  his  arms,  singing 
strange,  crazy  songs  to  it,  and  gazing  far  away  into  the  blue, 
empty  sky  with  his  curious,  pale  eyes. 

Although,  as  Otto  grew  up  into  boyhood,  his  lessons  and 
his  tasks  separated  him  from  Brother  John,  the  bond  between 
them  seemed  to  grow  stronger  rather  than  weaker.  During 
the  hours  that  Otto  had  for  his  own  they  were  scarcely 
ever  apart.  Down  in  the  vineyard,  where  the  monks  were 
gathering  the  grapes  for  the  vintage,  in  the  garden,  or 
in  the  fields,  the  two  were  always  seen  together,  either 
wandering  hand  in  hand,  or  seated  in  some  shady  nook 
or  corner. 

But  most  of  all  they  loved  to  lie  up  in  the  airy  wooden 
belfry ;  the  great  gaping  bell  hanging  darkly  above  them, 
the  mouldering  cross-beams  glimmering  far  up  under  the 
dim  shadows  of  the  roof,  where  dwelt  a  great  brown  owl 
that,  unfrightened  at  their  familiar  presence,  stared  down  at 
them  with  his  round,  solemn  eyes.  Below  them  stretched 
the  white  walls  of  the  garden,  beyond  them  the  vineyard, 
and  beyond  that  again  the  far  shining  river,  that  seemed  to 
Otto's  mind  to  lead  into  wonder-land.  There  the  two  would 
lie  upon  the  belfry  floor  by  the  hour,  talking  together  of  the 
strangest  things. 


THE   POOH,   SIMPLE   BROTHER   SITTING  UNDER   THE   PEAR-TREE,    CLOSE   TO   THE  BEE-HIVES, 
ROCKING   THE    LITTLE   BABY   IN    HIS  ARMS. 


HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.  M1CHAELSBURG.  4$ 

"  I  saw  the  dear  Angel  Gabriel  again  yester  morn/'  said 
Brother  John. 

"  So  !  "  says  Otto,  seriously;  "  and  where  was  that  ?  " 

"  It  was  out  in  the  garden,  in  the  old  apple-tree,"  said 
Brother  John.  "  I  was  walking  there,  and  my  wits  were 
running  around  in  the  grass  like  a  mouse.  What  heard  I 
but  a  wonderful  sound  of  singing,  and  it  was  like  the  hum 
of  a  great  bee,  only  sweeter  than  honey.  So  I  looked  up 
into  the  tree,  and  there  I  saw  two  sparks.  I  thought  at  first 
that  they  were  two  stars  that  had  fallen  out  of  heaven ;  but 
what  think  you  they  were,  little  child  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Otto,  breathlessly. 

"  They  were  angel's  eyes,"  said  Brother  John  ;  and  he 
smiled  in  the  strangest  way,  as  he  gazed  up  into  the  blue  sky. 
"  So  I  looked  at  the  two  sparks  and  felt  happy,  as  one  does 
in  spring  time  when  the  cold  weather  is  gone,  and  the  warm 
sun  shines,  and  the  cuckoo  sings  again.  Then,  by-and-by, 
I  saw  the  face  to  which  the  eyes  belonged.  First,  it  shone 
white  and  thin  like  the  moon  in  the  daylight ;  but  it  grew 
brighter  and  brighter,  until  it  hurt  one's  eyes  to  look  at  it, 
as  though  it  had  been  the  blessed  sun  itself.  Angel  Gabriel's 
hand  was  as  white  as  silver,  and  in  it  he  held  -.  green  bough 
with  blossoms,  like  those  that  grow  on  the  thorn  bush.  As 
for  his  robe,  it  was  all  of  one  piece,  and  finer  than  the  Father 
Abbot's  linen,  and  shone  beside  like  the  sunlight  on  pure 
snow.  So  I  knew  from  all  these  things  that  it  was  the 
blessed  Angel  Gabriel." 


4o  HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.  MICHAELSBURG. 

"  '  What  do  they  say  about  this  tree,  Brother  John  ?  '  said 
he  to  me. 

"  '  They  say  it  is  dying,  my  Lord  Angel,'  said  I,  '  and  that 
the  gardener  will  bring  a  sharp  axe  and  cut  it  down/ 

"'And  what  dost  thou  say  about  it,  Brother  John?' 
said  he. 

"  '  I  also  say  yes,  and  that  it  is  dying,'  said  I. 

"  At  that  he  smiled  until  his  face  shone  so  bright  that  I 
had  to  shut  my  eyes. 

"  '  Now  I  begin  to  believe,  Brother  John,  that  thou  art  as 
foolish  as  men  say,'  said  he.  '  Look,  till  I  show  thee.'  And 
thereat  I  opened  mine  eyes  again. 

"  Then  Angel  Gabriel  touched  the  dead  branches  with 
the  flowery  twig  that  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  there  was 
the  dead  wood  all  covered  with  green  leaves,  and  fair  blos- 
soms and  beautiful  apples  as  yellow  as  gold.  Each  smell- 
ing more  sweetly  than  a  garden  of  flowers,  and  better  to  the 
taste  than  white  bread  and  honey. 

"  '  They  are  souls  of  the  apples,'  said  the  good  Angel, 
'  and  they  can  never  wither  and  die.' 

"'Then  I'll  tell  the  gardener  that  he  shall  not  cut  the 
tree  down,'  said  I. 

"  '  No,  no,'  said  the  dear  Gabriel,  '  that  will  never  do,  for 
if  the  tree  is  not  cut  down  here  on  the  earth,  it  can  never  be 
planted  in  paradise.' ' 

Here  Brother  John  stopped  short  in  his  story,  and  began 


HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.  MICHAELSBURG.  tf 

singing  one  of  his  crazy  songs,  as  he  gazed  with  his  pale  eyes 
far  away  into  nothing  at  all. 

"  But  tell  me,  Brother  John,"  said  little  Otto,  in  a  hushed 
voice,  "  what  else  did  the  good  Angel  say  to  thee  ?  " 

Brother  John  stopped  short  in  his  song  and  began  look- 
ing from  right  to  left,  and  up  and  down,  as  though  to  gather 
his  wits. 

"  So  !  "  said  he,  "  there  was  something  else  that  he  told 
me.  Tschk  !  If  I  could  but  think  now.  Yes,  good  !  This 
is  it — '  Nothing  that  has  lived?  said  he,  '  shall  ever  die,  and 
nothing  that  has  died  shall  ever  live' " 

Otto  drew  a  deep  breath.  "  I  would  that  I  might  see  the 
beautiful  Angel  Gabriel  sometime,"  said  he  ;  but  Brother  John 
was  singing  again  and  did  not  seem  to  hear  what  he  said. 


Next  to  Brother  John,  the  nearest  one  to  the  little  child 
was  the  good  Abbot  Otto,  for  though  he  had  never  seen  won- 
derful things  with  the  eyes  of  his  soul,  such  as  Brother  John's 
had  beheld,  and  so  could  not  tell  of  them,  he  was  yet  able  to 
give  little  Otto  another  pleasure  that  no  one  else  could  give. 

He  was  a  great  lover  of  books,  the  old  Abbot,  and  had 
under  lock  and  key  wonderful  and  beautiful  volumes,  bound 
in  hog-skin  and  metal,  and  with  covers  inlaid  with  carved 
ivory,  or  studded  with  precious  stones.  But  within  these 
covers,  beautiful  as  they  were,  lay  the  real  wonder  of  the 
books,  like  the  soul  in  the  body  ;  for  there,  beside  the  black 


48          HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.  MICHAELSBURG. 

letters  and  initials,  gay  with  red  and  blue  and  gold,  were 
beautiful  pictures  painted  upon  the  creamy  parchment. 
Saints  and  Angels,  the  Blessed  Virgin  with  the  golden  oriole 
about  her  head,  good  St.  Joseph,  the  three  Kings  ;  the  sim- 
ple Shepherds  kneeling  in  the  fields,  while  Angels  with  glo- 
ries about  their  brow  called  to  the  poor  Peasants  from  the 
blue  sky  above.  But,  most  beautiful  of  all  was  the  picture 
of  the  Christ  Child  lying  in  the  manger,  with  the  mild-eyed 
Kine  gazing  at  him. 

Sometimes  the  old  Abbot  would  unlock  the  iron-bound 
chest  where  these  treasures  lay  hidden,  and  carefully  and 
lovingly  brushing  the  few  grains  of  dust  from  them,  would 
lay  them  upon  the  table  beside  the  oriel  window  in  front  of 
his  little  namesake,  allowing  the  little  boy  freedom  to  turn 
the  leaves  as  he  chose. 

Always  it  was  one  picture  that  little  Otto  sought ;  the 
Christ  Child  in  the  manger,  with  the  Virgin,  St.  Joseph,  the 
Shepherds,  and  the  Kine.  And  as  he  would  hang  breath- 
lessly gazing  and  gazing  upon  it,  the  old  Abbot  would  sit 
watching  him  with  a  faint,  half-sad  smile  flickering  around 
his  thin  lips  and  his  pale,  narrow  face. 


It  was  a  pleasant,  peaceful  life,  but   by-and-by  the  end 
came. 

Otto  was  now  nearly  twelve  years  old. 

One  bright,  clear  day,  near  the  hour  of  noon,  little  Otto 


ALWAYS  IT  WAS  ONE  PICTURE  THAT  LITTLE  OTTO  SOUGHT. 


HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.  MICHAELSBURG.  51 

heard  the  porter's  bell  sounding  below  in  the  court-yard — - 
dong!  dong!  Brother  Emmanuel  had  been  appointed  as 
the  boy's  instructor,  and  just  then  Otto  was  conning  his  les- 
sons in  the  good  monk's  cell.  Nevertheless,  at  the  sound 
of  the  bell  he  pricked  up  his  ears  and  listened,  for  a  visitor 
was  a  strange  matter  in  that  out-of-the-way  place,  and  he 
wondered  who  it  could  be.  So,  while  his  wits  wandered  his 
lessons  lagged. 

"  Poster  a  Phcebea  lustrabat  lampade  terras"  continued 
Brother  Emmanuel,  inexorably  running  his  horny  finger-nail 
bentath  the  line,  "  humentemque  Aurora  polo  dimoverat 
umbram — "  the  lesson  dragged  along. 

Just  then  a  sandaled  footstep  sounded  without,  in  the 
stone  corridor,  and  a  light  tap  fell  upon  Brother  Emmanuel's 
door.  It  was  Brother  Ignatius,  and  the  Abbot  wished  little 
Otto  to  come  to  the  refectory. 

As  they  crossed  the  court-yard  Otto  stared  to  see  a 
group  of  mail-clad  men-at-arms,  some  sitting  upon  their 
horses,  some  standing  by  the  saddle-bow.  "  Yonder  is  the 
young  baron,"  he  heard  one  of  them  say  in  a  gruff  voice,  and 
thereupon  all  turned  and  stared  at  him. 

A  stranger  was  in  the  refectory,  standing  beside  the  good 
old  Abbot,  while  food  and  wine  were  being  brought  and  set 
upon  the  table  for  his  refreshment ;  a  great,  tall,  broad-shoul- 
dered man,  beside  whom  the  Abbot  looked  thinner  and 
slighter  than  ever. 

The  stranger  was  clad  all  in  polished  and  gleaming  armor. 


52  HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.   MICHAELSBURG. 

of  plate  and  chain,  over  which  was  drawn  a  loose  robe  of 
gray  woollen  stuff,  reaching  to  the  knees  and  bound  about 
the  waist  by  a  broad  leathern  sword-belt.  Upon  his  arm  he 
carried  a  great  helmet  which  he  had  just  removed  from  his 
head.  His  face  was  weather-beaten  and  rugged,  and  on  lip 
and  chin  was  a  wiry,  bristling  beard ;  once  red,  now  frosted 
with  white. 

Brother  Ignatius  had  bidden  Otto  to  enter,  and  had  then 
closed  the  door  behind  him ;  and  now,  as  the  lad  walked 
slowly  up  the  long  room,  he  gazed  with  round,  wondering 
blue  eyes  at  the  stranger. 

"  Dost  know  who  I  am,  Otto  ?  "  said  the  mail-clad  knight, 
in  a  deep,  growling  voice. 

"  Methinks  you  are  my  father,  sir,"  said  Otto. 

"Aye,  thou  art  right,"  said  Baron  Conrad,  "and  I  am 
glad  to  see  that  these  milk-churning  monks  have  not  allowed 
thee  to  forget  me,  arid  who  thou  art  thyself." 

"An'  it  please  you,"  said  Otto,  "no  one  churneth  milk 
here  but  Brother  Fritz  ;  we  be  makers  of  wine,  and  not  mak- 
ers of  butter,  at  St.  Michaelsburg." 

Baron  Conrad  broke  into  a  great,  loud  laugh,  but  Abbot 
Otto's  sad  and  thoughtful  face  lit  up  with  no  shadow  of  an 
answering  smile. 

"  Conrad,"  said  he,  turning  to  the  other,  "  again  let  me 
urge  thee  ;  do  not  take  the  child  hence,  his  life  can  never  be 
your  life,  for  he  is  not  fitted  for  it.  I  had  thought — "  said 
he,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  I  had  thought  that  thou  hadst 


HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.  MICHAELSBURG.  53 

meant  to  consecrate  him — this  motherless  one — to  the  care 
of  the  Universal  Mother  Church." 

"So  !  "  said  the  Baron,  "thou  hadst  thought  that,  hadst 
thou  ?  Thou  hadst  thought  that  I  had  intended  to  deliver 
over  this  boy,  the  last  of  the  Vuelphs,  to  the  arms  of  the 
Church  ?  What  then  was  to  become  of  our  name  and  the 
glory  of  our  race  if  it  was  to  end  with  him  in  a  monastery  ? 
No,  Drachenhausen  is  the  home  of  the  Vuelphs,  and  there 
the  last  of  the  race  shall  live  as  his  sires  have  lived  before 
him,  holding  to  his  rights  by  the  power  and  the  might  of 
his  right  hand." 

The  Abbot  turned  and  looked  at  the  boy,  who  was  gaping 
in  simple  wide-eyed  wonderment  from  one  to  the  other  as 
they  spoke. 

"  And  dost  thou  think,  Conrad,"  said  the  old  man,  in  his 
gentle,  patient  voice,  "  that  that  poor  child  can  maintain  his 
rights  by  the  strength  of  his  right  hand  ?  " 

The  Baron's  look  followed  the  Abbot's,  and  he  said  nothing. 

In  the  few  seconds  of  silence  that  followed,  little  Otto,  in 
his  simple  mind,  was  wondering  what  all  this  talk  portended. 
Why  had  his  father  come  hither  to  St.  Michaelsburg,  lighting 
up  the  dim  silence  of  the  monastery  with  the  flash  and  ring  of 
his  polished  armor  ?  Why  had  he  talked  about  churning  butter 
but  now,  when  all  the  world  knew  that  the  monks  of  St. 
Michaelsburg  made  wine  ? 

It  was  Baron  Conrad's  deep  voice  that  broke  the  little 
pause  of  silence. 


54  HOW  OTTO  DWELT  AT  ST.   MICHAELSBURG. 

"  If  you  have  made  a  milkmaid  of  the  boy,"  he  burst  out 
at  last,  "  I  thank  the  dear  heaven  that  there  is  yet  time  to 
undo  your  work  and  to  make  a  man  of  him." 

The  Abbot  sighed.  "  The  child  is  yours,  Conrad,"  said 
\  /  he,  "  the  will  of  the  blessed  saints  be  done.  Mayhap  if  he 
goes  to  dwell  at  Drachenhausen  he  may  make  you  the  better 
instead  of  you  making  him  the  worse." 

Then  light  came  to  the  darkness  of  little  Otto's  wonder- 
ment ;  he  saw  what  all  this  talk  meant  and  why  his  father  had 
come  hither.  He  was  to  leave  the  happy,  sunny  silence  of 
the  dear  White  Cross,  and  to  go  out  into  that  great  world 
that  he  had  so  often  looked  down  upon  from  the  high  windy 
belfry  on  the  steep  hillside. 


VI. 

How  Otto  Lived  in  the  Dragon's 

House. 

HE  gates  of  the  Monastery  stood  wide 
open,  the  world  lay  beyond,  and  all  was 
ready  for  departure.  Baron  Conrad  and 
his  men-at-arms  sat  foot  in  stirrup,  the 
milk-white  horse  that  had  been  brought  for 
Otto  stood  waiting  for  him  beside  his  father's  great  charger. 

"Farewell,  Otto,"  said  the  good  old  Abbot,  as  he  stooped 
and  kissed  the  boy's  cheek. 

"  Farewell,"  answered  Otto,  in  his  simple,  quiet  way,  and 


$6         HOW  OTTO  LIVED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE. 

it  brought  a  pang  to  the  old  man's  heart  that  the  child  should 
seem  to  grieve  so  little  at  the  leave-taking. 

"  Farewell,  Otto,"  said  the  brethren  that  stood  about, 
"  farewell,  farewell." 

Then  poor  brother  John  came  forward  and  took  the  boy's 
hand,  and  looked  up  into  his  face  as  he  sat  upon  his  horse. 
"  We  will  meet  again,"  said  he,  with  his  strange,  vacant  smile, 
"  but  maybe  it  will  be  in  Paradise,  and  there  perhaps  they 
will  let  us  lie  in  the  father's  belfry,  and  look  down  upon  the 
angels  in  the  court-yard  below." 

"  Aye,"  answered  Otto,  with  an  answering  smile. 

"  Forward,"  cried  the  Baron,  in  a  deep  voice,  and  with  a 
clash  of  hoofs  and  jingle  of  armor  they  were  gone,  and  the 
great  wooden  gates  were  shut  to  behind  them. 

Down  the  steep  winding  pathway  they  rode,  and  out  into 
the  great  wide  world  beyond,  upon  which  Otto  and  brother 
John  had  gazed  so  often  from  the  wooden  belfry  of  the  White 
Cross  on  the  hill. 

"  Hast  been  taught  to  ride  a  horse  by  the  priests  up  yon- 
der on  Michaelsburg  ? "  asked  the  Baron,  when  they  had 
reached  the  level  road. 

"  Nay,"  said  Otto ;  "  we  had  no  horse  to  ride,  but  only  to 
bring  in  the  harvest  or  the  grapes  from  the  further  vineyards 
to  the  vintage." 

"  Prut,"  said  the  Baron,  "  methought  the  abbot  would 
have  had  enough  of  the  blood  of  old  days  in  his  veins  to 


POOR   BROTHER  JOHN   CAME   FORWARD  AND   TOOK   THE  BOY'S   HAND. 


HOW  OTTO  LIYED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE.          59 

have  taught  thee  what  is  fitting  for  a  knight  to  know  ;  art  not 

afeared  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Otto,  with  a  smile,  "  I  am  not  afeared." 

"  There  at  least  thou  showest  thyself  a  Vuelph,"  said  the 

grim  Baron.     But  perhaps  Otto's  thought  of  fear  and  Baron 

Conrad's  thought  of  fear  were  two  very  different  matters. 

The  afternoon  had  passed  by  the  time  they  had  reached 
the  end  of  their  journey.  Up  the  steep,  stony  path  they  rode 
to  the  drawbridge  and  the  great  gaping  gateway  of  Drachen- 
hausen,  where  wall  and  tower  and  battlement  looked  darker 
and  more  forbidding  than  ever  in  the  gray  twilight  of  the  com- 
ing night.  Little  Otto  looked  up  with  great,  wondering,  awe- 
struck eyes  at  this  grim  new  home  of  his. 

The  next  moment  they  clattered  over  the  drawbridge  that 
spanned  the  narrow  black  gulph  between  the  roadway  and  the 
wall,  and  the  next  were  past  the  echoing  arch  of  the  great  gate- 
way and  in  the  gray  gloaming  of  the  paved  court-yard  within. 

Otto  looked  around  upon  the  many  faces  gathered  there 
to  catch  the  first  sight  of  the  little  baron  ;  hard,  rugged  faces, 
seamed  and  weather-beaten  ;  very  different  from  those  of  the 
gentle  brethren  among  whom  he  had  lived,  and  it  seemed 
strange  to  him  that  there  was  none  there  whom  he  should 
know. 

As  he  climbed  the  steep,  stony  steps  to  the  door  of  the 
Baron's  house,  old  Ursela  came  running  down  to  meet  him. 
She  flung  her  withered  arms  around  him  and  hugged  him 


to         HOW  OTTO  LI^ED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE. 

close  to  her.     "  My  little  child,"  she  cried,  and  then  fell  to 
sobbing  as  though  her  heart  would  break. 

"  Here  is  someone  knoweth  me/'  thought  the  little  boy. 

His  new  home  was  all  very  strange  and  wonderful  to 
Otto ;  the  armors,  the  trophies,  the  flags,  the  long  galleries 
with  their  ranges  of  rooms,  the  great  hall  below  with  its 
vaulted  roof  and  its  great  fireplace  of  grotesquely  carved 
stone,  and  all  the  strange  people  with  their  lives  and  thoughts 
so  different  from  what  he  had  been  used  to  know. 

And  it  was  a  wonderful  thing  to  explore  all  the  strange 
places  in  the  dark  old  castle  ;  places  where  it  seemed  to  Otto 
no  one  could  have  ever  been  before. 

Once  he  wandered  down  a  long,  dark  passageway  below 
the  hall,  pushed  open  a  narrow,  iron-bound  oaken  door,  and 
found  himself  all  at  once  in  a  strange  new  land ;  the  gray 
light,  coming  in  through  a  range  of  tall,  narrow  windows,  fell 
upon  a  row  of  silent,  motionless  figures  carven  in  stone, 
knights  and  ladies  in  strange  armor  and  dress  ;  each  lying 
upon  his  or  her  stony  couch  with  clasped  hands,  and  gazing 
with  fixed,  motionless,  stony  eyeballs  up  into  the  gloomy, 
vaulted  arch  above  them.  There  lay,  in  a  cold,  silent  row,  all 
of  the  Vuelphs  who  had  died  s;nce  the  ancient  castle  had  been 
built. 

It  was  the  chapel  into  which  Otto  had  made  his  way,  now 
long  since  fallen  out  of  use  excepting  as  a  burial  place  of  the 
race. 


HOW  OTTO  LIVED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE.          61 

At  another  time  he  clambered  up  into  the  loft  under  the 
high  peaked  roof,  where  lay  numberless  forgotten  things  cov- 
ered with  the  dim  dust  of  years.  There  a  flock  of  pigeons 
had  made  their  roost,  and  flapped  noisily  out  into  the  sunlight 
when  he  pushed  open  the  door  from  below.  Here  he  hunted 
among  the  mouldering  things  of  the  past  until,  oh,  joy  of 
joys  !  in  an  ancient  oaken  chest  he  found  a  great  lot  of  worm- 
eaten  books,  that  had  belonged  to  some  old  chaplain  of  the 
castle  in  days  gone  by.  They  were  not  precious  and  beauti- 
ful volumes,  such  as  the  Father  Abbot  had  showed  him,  but 
all  the  same  they  had  their  quaint  painted  pictures  of  the 
blessed  saints  and  angels. 

Again,  at  another  time,  going  into  the  court-yard,  Otto  had 
found  the  door  of  Melchior's  tower  standing  invitingly  open, 
for  old  Hilda,  Schwartz  Carl's  wife,  had  come  down  below 
upon  some  business  or  other. 

Then  upon  the  shaky  wooden  steps  Otto  ran  without 
waiting  for  a  second  thought,  for  he  had  often  gazed  at  those 
curious  buildings  hanging  so  far  up  in  the  air,  and  had  won- 
dered what  they  were  like.  Round  and  round  and  up  and  up 
Otto  climbed,  until  his  head  spun.  At  last  he  reached  a  land- 
ing-stage, and  gazing  over  the  edge  and  down,  beheld  the 
stone  pavement  far,  far  below,  lit  by  a  faint  glimmer  of  light 
that  entered  through  the  arched  doorway.  Otto  clutched 
tight  hold  of  the  wooden  rail,  he  had  no  thought  that  he  had 
climbed  so  far. 


62         HOW  OTTO  LlfED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE. 

Upon  the  other  side  of  the  landing  was  a  window  tha 
pierced  the  thick  stone  walls  of  the  tower  ;  out  of  the  window 
he  looked,  and  then  drew  suddenly  back  again  with  a  gasp,  for 
it  was  through  the  outer  wall  he  peered,  and  down,  down  be- 
low in  the  dizzy  depths  he  saw  the  hard  gray  rocks,  where 
the  black  swine,  looking  no  larger  than  ants  in  the  distance, 
fed  upon  the  refuse  thrown  out  over  the  walls  of  the  castle. 
There  lay  the  moving  tree-tops  like  a  billowy  green  sea,  and 
the  coarse  thatched  roofs  of  the  peasant  cottages,  round 
which  crawled  the  little  children  like  tiny  human  specks. 

Then  Otto  turned  and  crept  down  the  stairs,  frightened  at 
the  height  to  which  he  had  climbed. 

At  the  doorway  he  met  Mother  Hilda.  "  Bless  us/'  she 
cried,  starting  back  and  crossing  herself,  and  then,  seeing  who 
it  was,  ducked  him  a  courtesy  with  as  pleasant  a  smile  as  her 
forbidding  face,  with  its  little  deep-set  eyes,  was  able  to  put 
upon  itself. 

Old  Ursela  seemed  nearer  to  the  boy  than  anyone  else 
about  the  castle,  excepting  it  was  his  father,  and  it  was  a  new- 
found delight  to  Otto  to  sit  beside  her  and  listen  to  her  quaint 
stories,  so  different  from  the  monkish  tales  that  he  had  heard 
and  read  at  the  monastery. 

But  one  day  it  was  a  tale  of  a  different  sort  that  she  told 
him,  and  one  that  opened  his  eyes  to  what  he  had  never 
dreamed  of  before. 

The  mellow  sunlight  fell  through  the  window  upon  old 


OTTO   LAY   CLOSE   TO    HER    FEET    UPON   A   BEAR   SKIN. 


HOW  OTTO  LIVED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE.          65 

Ursela,  as  she  sat  in  the  warmth  with  her  distaff  in  her  hands, 
while  Otto  lay  close  to  her  feet  upon  a  bear  skin,  silently  think- 
ing over  the  strange  story  of  a  brave  knight  and  a  fiery  dragon 
that  she  had  just  told  him.  Suddenly  Ursela  broke  the  silence. 

"Little  one,"  said  she,  "thou  art  wondrously  like  thy 
own  dear  mother ;  didst  ever  hear  how  she  died  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Otto,  "  but  tell  me,  Ursela,  how  it  was." 

"  'Tis  strange,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  that  no  one  should 
have  told  thee  in  all  this  time."  And  then,  in  her  own  fashion 
she  related  to  him  the  story  of  how  his  father  had  set  forth 
upon  that  expedition  in  spite  of  all  that  Otto's  mother  had 
said,  beseeching  him  to  abide  at  home  ;  how  he  had  been 
foully  wounded,  and  how  the  poor  lady  had  died  from  her 
fright  and  grief. 

Otto  listened  with  eyes  that  grew  wider  and  wider,  though 
not  all  with  wonder;  he  no  longer  lay  upon  the  bear  skin,  but 
sat  up  with  his  hands  clasped.  For  a  moment  or  two  after 
the  old  woman  had  ended  her  story,  he  sat  staring  silently  at 
her.  Then  he  cried  out,  in  a  sharp  voice,  "  And  is  this  true 
that  you  tell  me,  Ursela  ?  and  did  my  father  seek  to  rob  the 
towns  people  of  their  goods  ?  " 

Old  Ursela  laughed.  "  Aye,"  said  she,  "  that  he  did  and 
many  times.  Ah  !  me,  those  days  are  all  gone  now."  And 
she  fetched  a  deep  sigh.  "  Then  we  lived  in  plenty  and  had 
both  silks  and  linens  and  velvets  besides  in  the  store  closets, 
and  were  able  to  buy  good  wines  and  live  in  plenty  upon  the 
best.  Now  we  dress  in  frieze  and  live  upon  what  we  can 
5 


06         HOW  OTTO  LIVED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE. 

get,  and  sometimes  that  is  little  enough,  with  nothing  better 
than  sour  beer  to  drink.  But  there  is  one  comfort  in  it  all, 
and  that  is  that  our  good  Baron  paid  back  the  score  he  owed 
the  Trutz-Drachen  people  not  only  for  that,  but  for  all  that 
they  had  done  from  the  very  first." 

Thereupon  she  went  on  to  tell  Otto  how  Baron  Conrad 
had  fulfilled  the  pledge  of  revenge  that  he  had  made  Abbot 
Otto,  how  he  had  watched  day  after  day  until  one  time  he 
had  caught  the  Trutz-Drachen  folk,  with  Baron  Frederick  at 
their  head,  in  a  narrow  defile  back  of  the  Kaiserburg  ;  of  the 
fierce  fight  that  was  there  fought ;  of  how  the  Roderburgs  at 
last  fled,  leaving  Baron  Frederick  behind  them  wounded  ;  of 
how  he  had  kneeled  before  the  Baron  Conrad,  asking  for 
mercy,  and  of  how  Baron  Conrad  had  answered,  "Aye,  thou 
shalt  have  such  mercy  as  thou  deservest,"  and  had  therewith 
raised  his  great  two-handed  sword  and  laid  his  kneeling 
enemy  dead  at  one  blow. 

Poor  little  Otto  had  never  dreamed  that  such  cruelty  and 
wickedness  could  be.  He  listened  to  the  old  woman's  story 
with  gaping  horror,  and  when  the  last  came  and  she  told 
him,  with  a  smack  of  her  lips,  how  his  father  had  killed  his 
enemy  with  his  own  hand,  he  gave  a  gasping  cry  and  sprang 
to  his  feet.  Just  then  the  door  at  the  other  end  of  the  cham- 
ber was  noisily  opened,  and  Baron  Conrad  himself  strode  into 
the  room.  Otto  turned  his  head,  and  seeing  who  it  was,  gave 
another  cry,  loud  and  quavering,  and  ran  to  his  father  and 
caught  him  by  the  hand. 


HOW  OTTO  L1YED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE.         67 

"Oh,  father!"  he  cried,  "oh,  father!  Is  it  true  that 
thou  hast  killed  a  man  with  thy  own  hand  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  the  Baron,  grimly,  "  it  is  true  enough,  and 
I  think  me  I  have  killed  many  more  than  one.  But  what  of 
that,  Otto  ?  Thou  must  get  out  of  those  foolish  notions  that 
the  old  monks  have  taught  thee.  Here  in  the  world  it  is  dif-  ^v 
ferent  from  what  it  is  at  St.  Michaelsburg ;  here  a  man  must 
either  slay  or  be  slain." 

But  poor  little  Otto,  with  his  face  hidden  in  his  father's 
robe,  cried  as  though  his  heart  would  break.  "  Oh,  father  !  " 
he  said,  again  and  again,  "it  cannot  be— it  cannot  be  that  thou 
who  art  so  kind  to  me  should  have  killed  a  man  with  thine 
own  hands."  Then :  "  I  wish  that  I  were  back  in  the  monas- 
tery again  ;  I  am  afraid  out  here  in  the  great  wiae  world ;  per- 
haps somebody  may  kill  me,  for  I  am  only  a  weak  little  boy 
and  could  not  save  my  own  life  if  they  chose  to  take  it  from 


me." 


Baron  Conrad  looked  down  upon  Otto  all  this  while,  draw- 
ing his  bushy  eyebrows  together.  Once  he  reached  out  his 
hand  as  though  to  stroke  the  boy's  hair,  but  drew  it  back 
again. 

Turning  angrily  upon  the  old  woman,  "  Ursela,"  said  he, 
"  thou  must  tell  the  child  no  more  such  stories  as  these ;  he 
knowest  not  at  all  of  such  things  as  yet.  Keep  thy  tongue 
busy  with  the  old  woman's  tales  that  he  loves  to  hear  thee 
tell,  and  leave  it  with  me  to  teach  him  what  becometh  a  true 
knight  and  a  Vuelph. 


68         HOW  OTTO  LIVED  IN  THE  DRAGON'S  HOUSE. 

That  night  the  father  and  son  sat  together  beside  the  roar- 
ing  fire  in  the  great  hall.  "  Tell  me,  Otto,"  said  the  Baron, 
"  dost  thou  hate  me  for  having  done  what  Ursela  told  thee  to- 
day that  I  did  ?  " 

Otto  looked  for  a  while  into  his  father's  face.  "  I  know 
not/1  said  he  at  last,  in  his  quaint,  quiet  voice,  "but  methinks 
that  I  do  not  hate  thee  for  it." 

The  Baron  drew  his  bushy  brows  together  until  his  eyes 
twinkled  out  of  the  depths  beneath  them,  then  of  a  sudden  he 
broke  into  a  great  loud  laugh,  smiting  his  horny  palm  with  a 
smack  upon  his  thigh. 


SLOWLY   RAISING   HIMSELF   UPON   THE   NARROW  FOOTHOLD   HE   PEEPED   CAUTIOUSLY 

WITHIN. 


VII. 


The  Red  Cock  Crows  on  Drachen- 

hausen. 

HERE  was  a  new  emperor  in  Germany 
who  had  come  from  a  far  away  Swisg 
castle — Count  Rudolph  of  Hapsburg,  a 
good,  honest  man  with  a  good,  honest, 
homely  face,  but  bringing  with  him  a  stern 
sense  of  justice  and  of  right,  and  a  determination  to  put  down 
the  lawlessness  of  the  savage  German  barons  among  whom 
he  had  come  as  Emperon 

One  day  two  strangers  came  galloping  up  the  winding 


70          THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN. 

path  to  the  gates  of  the  Dragon's  house.  A  horn  sounded 
thin  and  clear,  a  parley  was  held  across  the  chasm  in  the  road 
between  the  two  strangers  and  the  porter  who  appeared  at  the 
little  wicket.  Then  a  messenger  was  sent  running  to  the 
Baron,  who  presently  came  striding  across  the  open  court-yard 
to  the  gateway  to  parley  with  the  strangers. 

The  two  bore  with  them  a  folded  parchment  with  a  great 
red  seal  hanging  from  it  like  a  clot  of  blood  ;  it  was  a  message 
from  the  Emperor  demanding  that  the  Baron  should  come  to 
the  Imperial  Court  to  answer  certain  charges  that  had  been 
brought  against  him,  and  to  give  his  bond  to  maintain  the 
peace  of  the  empire. 

One  by  one  those  barons  who  had  been  carrying  on  their 
private  wars,  or  had  been  despoiling  the  burgher  folk  in  their 
traffic  from  town  to  town,  and  against  whom  complaint  had 
been  lodged,  were  summoned  to  the  Imperial  Court,  where 
they  were  compelled  to  promise  peace  and  to  swear  allegiance 
to  the  new  order  of  things.  All  those  who  came  willingly 
were  allowed  to  return  home  again  after  giving  security  for 
maintaining  the  peace ;  all  those  who  came  not  willingly  were 
either  brought  in  chains  or  rooted  out  of  their  strongholds 
with  fire  and  sword,  and  their  roofs  burned  over  their  heads. 

Now  it  was  Baron  Conrad's  turn  to  be  summoned  to  the 
Imperial  Court,  for  complaint  had  been  lodged  against  him  by 
his  old  enemy  of  Trutz-Drachen — Baron  Henry — the  nephew 
of  the  old  Baron  Frederick  who  had  been  slain  while  kneeling 
in  the  dust  of  the  road  back  of  the  Kaiserburg. 


THE   GRIM   BARON   SAT   SILBNT   WITH   HIS   CHIN    RESTING   UPON   HIS   CLENCHED   FIST. 


THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN.         73 

No  one  at  Drachenhausen  could  read  but  Master  Rudolph, 
the  steward,  who  was  sand  blind,  and  little  Otto.  So  the  boy 
read  the  summons  to  his  father,  while  the  grim  Baron  sat  si- 
lent with  his  chin  resting  upon  his  clenched  fist  and  his  eye- 
brows drawn  together  into  a  thoughtful  frown  as  he  gazed 
into  the  pale  face  of  his  son,  who  sat  by  the  rude  oaken  table 
with  the  great  parchment  spread  out  before  him. 

Should  he  answer  the  summons,  or  scorn  it  as  he  would 
have  done  under  the  old  emperors  ?  Baron  Conrad  knew  not 
which  to  do ;  pride  said  one  thing  and  policy  another.  The 
Emperor  was  a  man  with  an  iron  hand,  and  Baron  Conrad 
knew  what  had  happened  to  those  who  had  refused  to  obey 
the  imperial  commands.  So  at  last  he  decided  that  he  would 
go  to  the  court,  taking  with  him  a  suitable  escort  to  support 
his  dignity. 

It  was  with  nearly  a  hundred  armed  men  clattering  behind 
him  that  Baron  Conrad  rode  away  to  court  to  answer  the  im- 
perial summons.  The  castle  was  stripped  of  its  fighting  men, 
and  only  eight  remained  behind  to  guard  the  great  stone  for- 
tress and  the  little  simple-witted  boy. 

It  was  a  sad  mistake. 

Three  days  had  passed  since  the  Baron  had  left  the  castle, 
and  now  the  third  night  had  come.  The  moon  was  hanging 
midway  in  the  sky,  white  and  full,  for  it  was  barely  past  mid- 
night. 

The  high   precipitous   banks  of  the  rocky  road  threw  a 


74         THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN. 

dense  black  shadow  into  the  gully  below,  and  in  that  crooked 
inky  line  that  scarred  the  white  face  of  the  moonlit  rocks  a 
band  of  some  thirty  men  were  creeping  slowly  and  stealthily 
nearer  and  nearer  to  Castle  Drachenhausen.  At  the  head  of 
them  was  a  tall,  slender  knight  clad  in  light  chain  armor,  his 
head  covered  only  by  a  steel  cap  or  bascinet. 

Along  the  shadow  they  crept,  with  only  now  and  then  a 
faint  clink  or  jingle  of  armor  to  break  the  stillness,  for  most  of 
those  who  followed  the  armed  knight  were  clad  in  leathern 
jerkins ;  only  one  or  two  wearing  even  so  much  as  a  steel 
breast-plate  by  way  of  armor. 

So  at  last  they  reached  the  chasm  that  yawned  beneath 
the  roadway,  and  there  they  stopped,  for  they  had  reached  the 
spot  toward  which  they  had  been  journeying.  It  was  Baron 
Henry  of  Trutz-Drachen  who  had  thus  come  in  the  silence  of 
the  night  time  to  the  Dragon's  house,  and  his  visit  boded  no 
good  to  those  within. 

The  Baron  and  two  or  three  of  his  men  talked  together  in 
low  tones,  now  and  then  looking  up  at  the  sheer  wall  that 
towered  above  them. 

"  Yonder  is  the  place,  Lord  Baron,"  said  one  of  those 
who  stood  with  him.  "  I  have  scanned  every  foot  of  the 
wai"  at  night  for  a  week  past.  An  we  get  not  in  by  that  way, 
we  get  not  in  at  all.  A  keen  eye,  a  true  aim,  and  a  bold  man 
are  all  that  we  need,  and  the  business  is  done."  Here  again 
all  looked  upward  at  the  gray  wall  above  them,  rising  up  in 
the  silent  night  air. 


THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN.          75 

High  aloft  hung  the  wooden  bartizan  or  watch-tower,  cling- 
ing to  the  face  of  the  outer  wall  and  looming  black  against 
the  pale  sky  above.  Three  great  beams  pierced  the  wall, 
and  upon  them  the  wooden  tower  rested.  The  middle  beam 
jutted  out  beyond  the  rest  to  the  distance  of  five  or  six  feet, 
and  the  end  of  it  was  carved  into  the  rude  semblance  of  a 
dragon's  head. 

"  So,  good,"  said  the  Baron  at  last ;  "  then  let  us  see  if  thy 
plan  holds,  and  if  Hans  Schmidt's  aim  is  true  enough  to  earn 
the  three  marks  that  I  have  promised  him.  Where  is  the 
bag?" 

One  of  those  who  stood  near  handed  the  Baron  a  leathern 
pouch,  the  Baron  opened  it  and  drew  out  a  ball  of  fine  thread, 
another  of  twine,  a  coil  of  stout  rope,  and  a  great  bundle  that 
looked,  until  it  was  unrolled,  like  a  coarse  fish-net.  It  was  a 
rope  ladder.  While  these  were  being  made  ready,  Hans 
Schmidt,  a  thick-set,  low-browed,  broad-shouldered  archer, 
strung  his  stout  bow,  and  carefully  choosing  three  arrows  from 
those  in  his  quiver,  he  stuck  them  point  downward  in  the 
earth.  Unwinding  the  ball  of  thread,  he  laid  it  loosely  in 
large  loops  upon  the  ground  so  that  it  might  run  easily  with- 
out hitching,  then  he  tied  the  end  of  the  thread  tightly 
around  one  of  his  arrows.  He  fitted  the  arrow  to  the  bow 
and  drew  the  feather  to  his  ear.  Twang !  rang  the  bow- 
string, and  the  feathered  messenger  flew  whistling  upon  its 
errand  to  the  watch-tower.  The  very  first  shaft  did  the 
work. 


76         THE  RED  COCK  CROU/S  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN. 

"Good,"  said  Hans  Schmidt,  the  archer,  in  his  heavy 
voice,  "  the  three  marks  are  mine,  Lord  Baron." 

The  arrow  had  fallen  over  and  across  the  jutting  beam 
between  the  carved  dragon's  head  and  the  bartizan,  carrying 
with  it  the  thread,  which  now  hung  from  above,  glimmering 
white  in  the  moonlight  like  a  cobweb. 

The  rest  was  an  easy  task  enough.  First  the  twine  was 
drawn  up  to  and  over  the  beam  by  the  thread,  then  the  rope 
was  drawn  up  by  the  twine,  and  last  of  all  the  rope  ladder  by 
the  rope.  There  it  hung  like  a  thin,  slender  black  line  against 
the  silent  gray  walls. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  Baron,  "  who  will  go  first  and  win 
fifty  marks  for  his  own,  and  climb  the  rope  ladder  to  the  tower 
yonder  ?  "  Those  around  hesitated.  "  Is  there  none  brave 
enough  to  venture  ?  "  said  the  Baron,  after  a  pause  of  silence. 

A  stout,  young  fellow,  of  about  eighteen  years  of  age, 
stepped  forward  and  flung  his  flat  leathern  cap  upon  the 
ground.  "  I  will  go,  my  Lord  Baron,"  said  he. 

"Good,"  said  the  Baron,  "the  fifty  marks  are  thine.  And 
now  listen,  if  thou  findest  no  one  in  the  watch-tower,  whistle 
thus  ;  if  the  watchman  be  at  his  post,  see  that  thou  makest  all 
safe  before  thou  givest  the  signal.  When  all  is  ready  the 
others  will  follow  thee.  And  now  go,  and  good  luck  go  with 
thee." 

The  young  fellow  spat  upon  his  hands  and,  seizing  the 
ropes,  began  slowly  and  carefully  to  mount  the  flimsy,  shaking 
ladder.  Those  below  held  it  as  tight  as  they  were  able,  but 


SLOWLY   RAISING   HIMSELF   UPON  THE   NARROW  FOOTHOLD   HE   PEEPED   CAUTIOUSLY 

WITHIN. 


THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN.         79 

nevertheless  he  swung  backward  and  forward  and  round  and 
round  as  he  climbed  steadily  upward.  Once  he  stopped 
upon  the  way,  and  those  below  saw  him  clutch  the  ladder 
close  to  him  as  though  dizzied  by  the  height  and  the  motion, 
but  he  soon  began  again,  up,  up,  up  like  some  great  black 
spider.  Presently  he  came  out  from  the  black  shadow  be- 
low and  into  the  white  moonlight,  and  then  his  shadow  fol- 
lowed him  step  by  step  up  the  gray  wall  upon  his  way.  At 
last  he  reached  the  jutting  beam,  and  there  again  he  stopped 
for  a  moment  clutching  tightly  to  it.  The  next  he  was  upon 
the  beam,  dragging  himself  toward  the  window  of  the  bartizan 
just  above.  Slowly  raising  himself  upon  his  narrow  foothold, 
he  peeped  cautiously  within.  Those  watching  him  from  be- 
low saw  him  slip  his  hand  softly  to  his  side,  and  then  place 
something  between  his  teeth.  It  was  his  dagger.  Reaching 
up,  he  clutched  the  window  sill  above  him  and,  with  a  silent 
spring,  seated  himself  upon  it.  The  next  moment  he  disap- 
peared within.  A  few  seconds  of  silence  followed,  then  of  a 
sudden  a  sharp  gurgling  cry  broke  the  stillness.  There  was 
another  pause  of  silence,  then  a  faint  shrill  whistle  sounded 
from  above. 

"  Who  will  go  next  ?  "  said  the  Baron.  It  was  Hans 
Schmidt  who  stepped  forward.  Another  followed  the  archer 
up  the  ladder,  and  another,  and  another.  Last  of  all  went 
the  Baron  Henry  himself,  and  nothing  was  left  but  the  rope 
ladder  hanging  from  above,  and  swaying  back  and  forth  in 
the  wind. 


8o         THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN. 

That  night  Schwartz  Carl  had  been  bousing  it  over  a  pot 
of  yellow  wine  in  the  pantry  with  his  old  crony,  Master  Ru- 
dolph, the  steward  ;  and  the  two,  chatting  and  gossiping  to- 
gether,  had  passed  the  time  away  until  long  after  the  rest  ol 
the  castle  had  been  wrapped  in  sleep.  Then,  perhaps  a  little 
unsteady  upon  his  feet,  Schwartz  Carl  betook  himself  home- 
ward to  the  Melchior  tower. 

He  stood  for  a  while  in  the  shadow  of  the  doorway,  gaz- 
ing up  into  the  pale  sky  above  him  at  the  great,  bright,  round 
moon,  that  hung  like  a  bubble  above  the  sharp  peaks  of  the 
roofs  standing  black  as  ink  against  the  sky.  But  all  of  a  sud- 
den he  started  up  from  the  post  against  which  he  had  been 
leaning,  and  with  head  bent  to  one  side,  stood  listening 
breathlessly,  for  he  too  had  heard  that  smothered  cry  from 
the  watch-tower.  So  he  stood  intently,  motionlessly,  listen- 
ing, listening  ;  but  all  was  silent  except  for  the  monotonous 
dripping  of  water  in  one  of  the  nooks  of  the  court-yard,  and 
the  distant  murmur  of  the  river  borne  upon  the  breath  of  the 
night  air.  "  Mayhap  I  was  mistaken,"  muttered  Schwartz 
Carl  to  himself. 

But  the  next  moment  the  silence  was  broken  again  by  a 
faint,  shrill  whistle  ;  what  did  it  mean  ? 

Back  of  the  heavy  oaken  door  of  the  tower  was  Schwartz 
Carl's  cross-bow,  the  portable  windlass  with  which  the  bow- 
string was  drawn  back,  and  a  pouch  of  bolts.  Schwartz  Carl 
reached  back  into  the  darkness,  fumbling  in  the  gloom  until 
his  fingers  met  the  weapon.  Setting  his  foot  in  the  iron  stir- 


SCHWARTZ   CARL,    HOLDING   HIS   ARBELAST   IN   HIS   HAND,    STOOD   SILENTLY   WATCHING 


THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN.         83 

rup  at  the  end  of  the  stock,  he  wound  the  stout  bow-string 
into  the  notch  of  the  trigger,  and  carefully  fitted  the  heavy, 
murderous-looking  bolt  into  the  groove. 

Minute  after  minute  passed,  and  Schwartz  Carl,  holding 
his  arbelast  in  his  hand,  stood  silently  waiting  and  watching 
in  the  sharp-cut,  black  shadow  of  the  doorway,  motionless  as 
a  stone  statue.  Minute  after  minute  passed.  Suddenly  there 
was  a  movement  in  the  shadow  of  the  arch  of  the  great  gate- 
way across  the  court-yard,  and  the  next  moment  a  leath- 
ern-clad figure  crept  noiselessly  out  upon  the  moonlit  pave- 
ment, and  stood  there  listening,  his  head  bent  to  one  side. 
Schwartz  Carl  knew  very  well  that  it  was  no  one  belonging 
to  the  castle,  and,  from  the  nature  of  his  action,  that  he  was 
upon  no  good  errand. 

He  did  not  stop  to  challenge  the  suspicious  stranger. 
The  taking  of  another's  life  was  thought  too  small  a  matter  •  „ 
for  much  thought  or  care  in  those  days.  Schwartz  Carl 
would  have  shot  a  man  for  a  much  smaller  reason  than  the 
suspicious  actions  of  this  fellow.  The  leather-clad  figure 
stood  a  fine  target  in  the  moonlight  for  a  cross-bow  bolt. 
Schwartz  Carl  slowly  raised  the  weapon  to  his  shoulder  and 
took  a  long  and  steady  aim.  Just  then  the  stranger  put  his 
fingers  to  his  lips  and  gave  a  low,  shrill  whistle.  It  was  the 
last  whistle  that  he  was  to  give  upon  this  earth.  There  was  a 
sharp,  jarring  twang  of  the  bow-string,  the  hiss  of  the  flying 
bolt,  and  the  dull  thud  as  it  struck  its  mark.  The  man  gave 
a  shrill,  quavering  cry,  and  went  staggering  back,  and  then 


84          THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN. 

fell  all  of  a  heap  against  the  wall  behind  him.  As  though  in 
answer  to  the  cry,  half  a  dozen  men  rushed  tumultuously  out 
from  the  shadow  of  the  gateway  whence  the  stranger  had 
just  come,  and  then  stood  in  the  court-yard,  looking  uncer- 
tainly this  way  and  that,  not  knowing  from  what  quarter  the 
stroke  had  come  that  had  laid  their  comrade  low. 

But  Schwartz  Carl  did  not  give  them  time  to  discover  that ; 
there  was  no  chance  to  string  his  cumbersome  weapon  again ; 
down  he  flung  it  upon  the  ground.  "To  arms  ! "  he  roared  in 
a  voice  of  thunder,  and  then  clapped  to  the  door  of  Melchior's 
tower  and  shot  the  great  iron  bolts  with  a  clang  and  rattle. 

The  next  instant  the  Trutz-Drachen  men  were  thundering 
at  the  door,  but  Schwartz  Carl  was  already  far  up  the  winding 
steps. 

But  now  the  others  came  pouring  out  from  the  gateway. 
"To  the  house  !  "  roared  Baron  Henry. 

Then  suddenly  a  clashing,  clanging  uproar  crashed  out 
upon  the  night.  Dong  !  Dong  !  It  was  the  great  alarm  bell 
from  Melchior's  tower — Schwartz  Carl  was  at  his  post. 

Little  Baron  Otto  lay  sleeping  upon  the  great  rough  bed 
in  his  room,  dreaming  of  the  White  Cross  on  the  hill  and  of 
brother  John.  By  and  by  he  heard  the  convent  bell  ringing, 
and  knew  that  there  must  be  visitors  at  the  gate,  for  loud 
voices  sounded  through  his  dream.  Presently  he  knew  that 
he  was  coming  awake,  but  though  the  sunny  monastery  gar- 
den grew  dimmer  and  dimmer  to  his  sleeping  sight,  the  clang- 


THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN. 


ing  of  the  bell  and  the  sound  of  shouts  grew  louder  and  louder. 
Then  he  opened  his  eyes.  Flaming  red  lights  from  torches, 
carried  hither  and  thither  by  people  in  the  court-yard  outside, 
flashed  and  ran  along  the  wall  of  his  room.  Hoarse  shouts 
and  cries  filled  the  air,  and  suddenly  the  shrill,  piercing  shriek 
of  a  woman  rang  from  wall  to  wall ;  and  through  the  noises 
the  great  bell  from  far  above  upon  Melchior's  tower  clashed 
and  clanged  its  harsh,  resonant  alarm. 

Otto  sprang  from  his  bed  and  looked  out  of  the  window 
and  down  upon  the  court-yard  below.  "  Dear  God !  what 
dreadful  thing  hath  happened  ? "  he  cried,  and  clasped  his 
hands  together. 

A  cloud  of  smoke  .was  pouring  out  from  the  windows  of 
the  building  across  the  court-yard,  whence  a  dull  ruddy  glow 
flashed  and  flickered.  Strange  men  were  running  here  and 
there  with  flaming  torches,  and  the  now  continuous  shrieking 
of  women  pierced  the  air. 

Just  beneath  the  window  lay  the  figure  of  a  man  half  naked 
and  face  downward  upon  the  stones.  Then  suddenly  Otto 
cried  out  in  fear  and  horror,  for,  as  he  looked  with  dazed  and 
bewildered  eyes  down  into  the  lurid  court-yard  beneath, 
a  savage  man,  in  a  shining  breast-plate  and  steel  cap,  came 
dragging  the  dark,  silent  figure  of  a  woman  across  the 
stones ;  but  whether  she  was  dead  or  in  a  swoon,  Otto  could 
not  tell. 

And  every  moment  the  pulsing  of  that  dull  red  glare  from 
the  windows  of  the  building  across  the  court-yard  shone  more 


#6          THE  RED  COCK  CROU/S  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN. 

brightly,  and  the  glare  from  other  flaming  buildings,  which 
Otto  could  not  see  from  his  window,  turned  the  black,  starry 
night  into  a  lurid  day. 

Just  then  the  door  of  the  room  was  burst  open,  and  in 
rushed  poor  old  Ursela,  crazy  with  her  terror.  She  flung 
herself  down  upon  the  floor  and  caught  Otto  around  the 
knees.  "Save  me  !  "  she  cried,  "  save  me!"  as  though  the 
poor,  pale  child  could  be  of  any  help  to  her  at  such  a  time. 
In  the  passageway  without  shone  the  light  of  torches,  and 
the  sound  of  loud  footsteps  came  nearer  and  nearer. 

And  still  through  all  the  din  sounded  continually  the  clash 
and  clang  and  clamor  of  the  great  alarm  bell. 

The  red  light  flashed  into  the  room,  and  in  the  doorway 
stood  a  tall,  thin  figure  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  glittering 
chain  armor.  From  behind  this  fierce  knight,  with  his  dark, 
narrow,  cruel  face,  its  deep-set  eyes  glistening  in  the  light 
of  the  torches,  crowded  six  or  eight  savage,  low-browed, 
brutal  men,  who  stared  into  the  room  and  at  the  white-faced 
boy  as  he  stood  by  the  window,  with  the  old  woman  clinging 
to  his  knees  and  praying  to  him  for  help. 

"  We  have  cracked  the  nut  and  here  is  the  kernel,"  said 
one  of  them  who  stood  behind  the  rest,  and  thereupon  a  roar 
of  brutal  laughter  went  up.  But  the  cruel  face  of  the  armed 
knight  never  relaxed  into  a  smile;  he  strode  into  the  room 
and  laid  his  iron  hand  heavily  upon  the  boy's  shoulder.  "  Art 
thou  the  young  Baron  Otto  ?  "  said  he,  in  a  harsh  voice. 

"Aye,"  said  the  lad;   "but  do  not  kill  me." 


HE   STRODE   FORWARD    INTO    THE   ROOM    AND   LAID    HIS   HAND   HEAVILY   ON   THE   BOY  S 

SHOULDER. 


THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN.         89 

The  knight  did  not  answer  him.  "  Fetch  the  cord  hither," 
said  he,  "  and  drag  the  old  witch  away." 

It  took  two  of  them  to  loosen  poor  old  Ursela's  crazy 
clutch  from  about  her  young  master.  Then  amid  roars  of 
laughter  they  dragged  her  away,  screaming  and  scratching 
and  striking  with  her  fists. 

They  drew  back  Otto's  arms  behind  his  back  and  wrapped 
them  round  and  round  with  a  bowstring.  Then  they  pushed 
and  hustled  and  thrust  him  forth  from  the  room  and  along  the 
passageway,  now  bright  with  the  flames  that  roared  and 
crackled  without.  Down  the  steep  stairway  they  drove  him, 
where  thrice  he  stumbled  and  fell  amid  roars  of  laughter.  At 
last  they  were  out  into  the  open  air  of  the  court-yard.  Here 
was  a  terrible  sight,  but  Otto  saw  nothing  of  it ;  his  blue  eyes 
were  gazing  far  away,  and  his  lips  moved  softly  with  the  prayer 
that  the  good  monks  of  St.  Michaelsburg  had  taught  him,  for 
he  thought  that  they  meant  to  slay  him. 

All  around  the  court-yard  the  flames  roared  and  snapped 
and  crackled.  Four  or  five  figures  lay  scattered  here  and 
there,  silent  in  all  the  glare  and  uproar.  The  heat  was  so  in- 
tense that  they  were  soon  forced  back  into  the  shelter  of  the 
great  gateway,  where  the  women  captives,  under  the  guard 
of  three  or  four  of  the  Trutz-Drachen  men,  were  crowded  to- 
gether in  dumb,  bewildered  terror.  Only  one  man  was  to  be 
seen  among  the  captives,  poor,  old,  half  blind  Master  Ru- 
dolph, the  steward,  who  crouched  tremblingly  among  the 
women. 


90          THE  RED  COCK  CROWS  ON  DRACHENHAUSEN. 

They  had  set  the  blaze  to  Melchior's  tower,  and  now,  be« 
low,  it  was  a  seething  furnace.  Above,  the  smoke  rolled  in 
black  clouds  from  the  windows,  but  still  the  alarm  bell  sounded 
through  all  the  blaze  and  smoke.  Higher  and  higher  the 
flames  rose ;  a  trickle  of  fire  ran  along  the  frame  buildings 
hanging  aloft  in  the  air.  A  clear  flame  burst  out  at  the  peak 
of  the  roof,  but  still  the  bell  rang  forth  its  clamorous  clangor. 
Presently  those  who  watched  below  saw  the  cluster  of  build- 
ings bend  and  sink  and  sway ;  there  was  a  crash  and  roar,  a 
cloud  of  sparks  flew  up  as  though  to  the  very  heavens  them- 
selves, and  the  bell  of  Melchior's  tower  was  stilled  forever. 
A  great  shout  arose  from  the  watching,  upturned  faces. 

"  Forward  ! "  cried  Baron  Henry,  and  out  from  the  gate- 
way they  swept  and  across  the  drawbridge,  leaving  Drachen- 
hausen  behind  them  a  flaming  furnace  blazing  against  the 
gray  of  the  early  dawning. 


ill 


VIII. 

In  the  House  of  the  Dragon  Scorner. 

TALL,  narrow,  gloomy  room  ;  no  furniture 
but  a  rude  bench  ;  a  bare  stone  floor, 
cold  stone  walls  and  a  gloomy  ceiling  of 
arched  stone  over  head ;  a  long,  narrow 
slit  of  a  window  high  above  in  the  wall, 
through  the  iron  bars  of  which  Otto  could  see  a  small 
patch  of  blue  sky  and  now  and  then  a  darting  swallow,  for 
an  instant  seen,  the  next  instant  gone.  Such  was  the  little 
baron's  prison  in  Trutz-Drachen.  Fastened  to  a  bolt  and 
hanging  against  the  walls,  hung  a  pair  of  heavy  chains  with 
gaping  fetters  at  the  ends.  They  were  thick  with  rust,  and 
the  red  stain  of  the  rust  streaked  the  wall  below  where  they 


92  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DRAGON  SCORNER. 

hung  like  a  smear  of  blood.  Little  Otto  shuddered  as  he 
looked  at  them  ;  can  those  be  meant  for  me,  he  thought. 

Nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  that  one  patch  of  blue  sky  far 
up  in  the  wall.  No  sound  from  without  was  to  be  heard  in 
that  gloomy  cell  of  stone,  for  the  window  pierced  the  outer 
wall,  and  the  earth  and  its  noises  lay  far  below. 

Suddenly  a  door  crashed  without,  and  the  footsteps  of 
men  were  heard  coming  along  the  corridor.  They  stopped 
in  front  of  Otto's  cell ;  he  heard  the  jingle  of  keys,  and  then  a 
loud  rattle  of  one  thrust  into  the  lock  of  the  heavy  oaken 
door.  The  rusty  bolt  was  shot  back  with  a  screech,  the  door 
opened,  and  there  stood  Baron  Henry,  no  longer  in  his 
armor,  but  clad  in  a  long  black  robe  that  reached  nearly  to 
his  feet,  a  broad  leather  belt  was  girdled  about  his  waist,  and 
from  it  dangled  a  short,  heavy  hunting  sword. 

Another  man  was  with  the  Baron,  a  heavy-faced  fellow 
clad  in  a  leathern  jerkin  over  which  was  drawn  a  short  coat 
of  linked  mail. 

The  two  stood  for  a  moment  looking  into  the  room,  and 
Otto,  his  pale  face  glimmering  in  the  gloom,  sat  upon  the 
edge  of  the  heavy  wooden  bench  or  bed,  looking  back  at 
them  out  of  his  great  blue  eyes.  Then  the  two  entered  and 
closed  the  door  behind  them. 

"  Dost  thou  know  why  thou  art  here  ?  "  said  the  Baron,  in 
his  deep,  harsh  voice. 

"  Nay/1  said  Otto,  "  I  know  not." 

"So?"  said  the  Baron.     u  Then  I  will  tell  thee.     Three 


THEN  DOST  THOU  NOT  KNOW  WHY  I  AM  HERE?"    SAID  THE  BARON. 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DRAGON  SCORNER.  95 

years  ago  the  good  Baron  Frederick,  my  uncle,  kneeled  in  the 
dust  and  besought  mercy  at  thy  father's  hands  ;  the  mercy  he 
received  was  the  coward  blow  that  slew  him.  Thou  knowest 
the  story  ?  " 

"Aye,"  said  Otto,  tremblingly,  "  I  know  it." 

"  Then  dost  thou  not  know  why  I  am  here  ? "  said  the 
Baron. 

"  Nay,  dear  Lord  Baron,  I  know  not,"  said  poor  little  Otto, 
and  began  to  weep. 

The  Baron  stood  for  a  moment  or  two  looking  gloomily 
upon  him,  as  the  little  boy  sat  there  with  the  tears  running 
down  his  white  face. 

"  I  will  tell  thee,"  said  he,  at  last ;  "I  swore  an  oath  that 
the  red  cock  should  crow  on  Drachenhausen,  and  I  have 
given  it  to  the  flames.  I  swore  an  oath  that  no  Vuelph  that 
ever  left  my  hands  should  be  able  to  strike  such  a  blow  as 
thy  father  gave  to  Baron  Frederick,  and  now  I  will  fulfil  that 
too.  Catch  the  boy,  Casper,  and  hold  him." 

As  the  man  in  the  mail  shirt  stepped  toward  little  Otto, 
the  boy  leaped  up  from  where  he  sat  and  caught  the  Baron 
about  the  knees.  "  Oh  !  dear  Lord  Baron,"  he  cried,  "  do 
not  harm  me  ;  I  am  only  a  little  child,  I  have  never  done  harm 
to  thee  ;  do  not  harm  me." 

"  Take  him  away,"  said  the  Baron,  harshly. 

The  fellow  stooped,  and  loosening  Otto's  hold,  in  spite  of 
his  struggles  and  cries,  carried  him  to  the  bench,  against 
which  he  held  him,  whilst  the  Baron  stood  above  him. 


p<5  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DRAGON  SCORNER. 

Baron  Henry  and  the  other  came  forth  from  the  cell,  care- 
fully closing  the  wooden  door  behind  them.  At  the  end  of 
the  corridor  the  Baron  turned,  "  Let  the  leech  be  sent  to  the 
boy,"  said  he.  And  then  he  turned  and  walked  away. 

Otto  lay  upon  the  hard  couch  in  his  cell,  covered  with  a 
shaggy  bear  skin.  His  face  was  paler  and  thinner  than  ever, 
and  dark  rings  encircled  his  blue  eyes.  He  was  looking 
toward  the  door,  for  there  was  a  noise  of  someone  fumbling 
with  the  lock  without. 

Since  that  dreadful  day  when  Baron  Henry  had  come  to  his 
cell,  only  two  souls  had  visited  Otto.  One  was  the  fellow  who 
had  come  with  the  Baron  that  time ;  his  name,  Otto  found, 
was  Casper.  He  brought  the  boy  his  rude  meals  of  bread 
and  meat  and  water.  The  othei  visitor  was  the  leech  or  doc- 
tor, a  thin,  weasand  little  man,  with  a  kindly,  wrinkled  face  and 
a  gossiping  tongue,  who,  besides  binding  wounds,  bleeding, 
and  leeching,  and  administering  his  simple  remedies  to  those 
who  were  taken  sick  in  the  castle,  acted  as  the  Baron's  barber. 

The  Baron  had  left  the  key  in  the  lock  of  the  door,  so  that 
these  two  might  enter  when  they  chose,  but  Otto  knew  that 
it  was  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  whom  he  now  heard  at 
the  door,  working  uncertainly  with  the  key,  striving  to  turn  it 
in  the  rusty,  cumbersome  lock.  At  last  the  bolts  grated 
back,  there  was  a  pause,  and  then  the  door  opened  a  little 
way,  and  Otto  thought  that  he  could  see  someone  peeping  in 
from  without.  By  and  by  the  door  opened  further,  there  was 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DRAGON  SCORNER.  97 

another  pause,  and  then  a  slender,  elfish-looking  little  girl, 
with  straight  black  hair  and  shining  black  eyes,  crept  noise- 
lessly into  the  room. 

She  stood  close  by  the  door  with  her  finger  in  her  mouth, 
staring  at  the  boy  where  he  lay  upon  his  couch,  and  Otto 
upon  his  part  lay,  full  of  wonder,  gazing  back  upon  the  little 
elfin  creature. 

She,  seeing  that  Tie  made  no  sign  or  motion,  stepped  a  lit- 
tle nearer,  and  then,  after  a  moment's  pause,  a  little  nearer 
still,  until,  at  last,  she  stood  within  a  few  feet  of  where  he  lay. 

"Art  thou  the  Baron  Otto?"  said  she. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Otto. 

"  Prut !  "  said  she,  "  and  is  that  so  !  Why,  I  thought  that 
thou  wert  a  great  tall  fellow  at  least,  and  here  thou  art  a  little 
boy  no  older  than  Carl  Max,  the  gooseherd."  Then,  after  a 
little  pause — "  My  name  is  Pauline,  and  my  father  is  the 
Baron.  I  heard  him  tell  my  mother  all  about  thee,  and  so  I 
wanted  to  come  here  and  see  thee  myself.  Art  thou  sick  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Otto,  "  I  am  sick." 

"  And  did  my  father  hurt  thee  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  Otto,  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears,  until  one 
sparkling  drop  trickled  slowly  down  his  white  face. 

Little  Pauline  stood  looking  seriously  at  him  for  a  while. 
"I  am  sorry  for  thee,  Otto,"  said  she,  at  last.  And  then,  at 
her  childish  pity,  he  began  crying  in  earnest. 

This  was  only  the  first  visit  of  many  from  the  little  maid, 


c?S  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DRAGON  SCORNER. 

for  after  that  she  often  came  to  Otto's  prison,  who  began  to 
look  for  her  coming  from  day  to  day  as  the  one  bright  spot  in 
the  darkness  and  the  gloom. 

Sitting  upon  the  edge  of  his  bed  and  gazing  into  his  face 
with  wide  open  eyes,  she  would  listen  to  him  by  the  hour,  as 
he  told  her  of  his  life  in  that  far  away  monastery  home ;  of 
poor,  simple  brother  John's  wonderful  visions,  of  the  good 
Abbot's  books  with  their  beautiful  pictures,  and  of  all  the 
monkish  tales  and  stories  of  knights  and  dragons  and  heroes 
and  emperors  of  ancient  Rome,  which  brother  Emmanuel  had 
taught  him  to  read  in  the  crabbed  monkish  Latin  in  which 
they  were  written. 

One  day  the  little  maid  sat  for  a  long  while  silent  after  he 
had  ended  speaking.    At  last  she  drew  a  deep  breath.     "And 
are  all  these  things  that  thou  tellest  me  about  the  priests  in 
their  castle  really  true  ?  "  said  she. 
"  Yes,"  said  Otto,  "  all  are  true." 
"  And  do  they  never  go  out  to  fight  other  priests  ?  " 
"  No,"  said  Otto,  "  they  know  nothing  of  fighting." 
"  So  !  "  said  she.     And  then  fell  silent  in  the  thought  of 
the  wonder  of  it  all,  and  that  there  should  be  men  in  the 
world  that  knew  nothing  of  violence  and  bloodshed  ;  for  in  all 
the  eight  years  of  her  life  she  had  scarcely  been  outside  of 
the  walls  of  Castle  Trutz-Drachen. 

At  another  time  it  was  of  Otto's  mother  that  they  were 
speaking. 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DRAGON  SCORNER.  99 

"  And  didst  thou  never  see  her,  Otto  ?  "  said  the  little  girl. 

"Aye,"  said  Otto,  "  I  see  her  sometimes  in  my  dreams, 
and  her  face  always  shines  so  bright  that  I  know  she  is  an 
angel;  for  brother  John  has  often  seen  the  dear  angels,  and 
he  tells  me  that  their  faces  always  shine  in  that  way.  I  saw 
her  the  night  thy  father  hurt  me  so,  for  I  could  not  sleep  and 
my  head  felt  as  though  it  would  break  asunder.  Then  she 
came  and  leaned  over  me  and  kissed  my  forehead,  and  after 
that  I  fell  asleep." 

"  But  where  did  she  come  from,  Otto  ?  "  said  the  little 
girl. 

"  From  paradise,  I  think,"  said  Otto,  with  that  patient  seri- 
ousness that  he  had  caught  from  the  monks,  and  that  sat  so 
quaintly  upon  him. 

"So  !  "  said  little  Pauline  ;  and  then,  after  a  pause,  "  That 
is  why  thy  mother  kissed  thee  when  thy  head  ached — because 
she  is  an  angel.  When  I  was  sick  my  mother  bade  Gretchen 
carry  me  to  a  far  part  of  the  house,  because  I  cried  and  so 
troubled  her.  Did  thy  mother  ever  strike  thee,  Otto  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Otto. 

"  Mine  hath  often  struck  me,"  said  Pauline. 

One  day  little  Pauline  came  bustling  into  Otto's  cell,  her 
head  full  of  the  news  which  she  carried.  "  My  father  says 
that  thy  father  is  out  in  the  woods  somewhere  yonder,  back  of 
the  castle,  for  Fritz,  the  swineherd,  told  my  father  that  last 
night  he  had  seen  a  fire  in  the  woods,  and  that  he  had  crept  up 


/oo  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DRAGON  SCORNbR.. 

to  it  without  anyone  knowing.  There  he  had  seen  the  Baron 
Conrad  and  six  of  his  men,  and  that  they  were  eating  one  of 
the  swine  that  they  had  killed  and  roasted.  "  Maybe,"  said 
she,  seating  herself  upon  the  edge  of  Otto's  couch  ;  "  maybe 
my  father  will  kill  thy  father,  and  they  will  bring  him  here  and 
let  him  lie  upon  a  black  bed  with  bright  candles  burning 
around  him,  as  they  did  my  uncle  Frederick  when  he  was 
killed." 

"  God  forbid  !  "  said  Otto,  and  then  lay  for  a  while  with 
his  hands  clasped.  "  Dost  thou  love  me,  Pauline  ?  "  said  he, 
after  a  while. 

"  Yes,"  said  Pauline,  "  for  thou  art  a  good  child,  though 
my  father  says  that  thy  wits  are  cracked." 

"  Mayhap  they  are,"  said  Otto,  simply,  "  for  I  have  often 
been  told  so  before.  But  thou  wouldst  not  see  me  die, 
Pauline ;  wouldst  thou  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Pauline,  "  I  would  not  see  thee  die,  for  then 
thou  couldst  tell  me  no  more  stories ;  for  they  told  me  that 
uncle  Frederick  could  not  speak  because  he  was  dead." 

"  Then  listen,  Pauline,"  said  Otto  ;  "  if  I  go  not  away  from 
here  I  shall  surely  die.  Every  day  I  grow  more  sick  and  the 
leech  cannot  cure  me."  Here  he  broke  down  and,  turning  his 
face  upon  the  couch,  began  crying,  while  little  Pauline  sat 
looking  seriously  at  him. 

"  Why  dost  thou  cry,  Otto  ?  "  said  she,  after  a  while. 

"  Because/7  said  he,  "  I  am  so  sick,  and  I  want  my  father 
to  come  and  take  me  away  from  here." 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DRAGON  SCORNER.          101 

"  But  why  dost  thou  want  to  go  away  ?  "  said  Pauline. 
"  If  thy  father  takes  thee  away,  thou  canst  not  tell  me  any 
more  stories." 

"  Yes,  I  can,"  said  Otto,  "  for  when  I  grow  to  be  a  man  I 
will  come  again  and  marry  thee,  and  when  thou  art  my  wife  I 
can  tell  thee  all  the  stories  that  I  know.  Dear  Pauline,  canst 
thou  not  tell  my  father  where  I  am,  that  he  may  come  here 
and  take  me  away  before  I  die  ?  " 

"  Mayhap  I  could  do  so,"  said  Pauline,  after  a  little  while, 
"  for  sometimes  I  go  with  Casper  Max  to  see  his  mother,  who 
nursed  me  when  I  was  a  baby.  She  is  the  wife  of  Fritz,  the 
swineherd,  and  she  will  make  him  tell  thy  father ;  for  she  will 
do  whatever  I  ask  of  her,  and  Fritz  will  do  whatever  she  bids 
him  do." 

"And  for  my  sake,  wilt  thou  tell  him,  Pauline?"  said 
Otto. 

"  But  see,  Otto,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  if  I  tell  him,  wilt  thou 
promise  to  come  indeed  and  marry  me  when  thou  art  grown 
a  man  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Otto,  very  seriously,  "  I  will  promise." 

"  Then  I  will  tell  thy  father  where  thou  art,"  said  she. 

"  But  thou  wilt  do  it  without  the  Baron  Henry  knowing, 
wilt  thou  not,  Pauline  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  for  if  my  father  and  my  mother  knew 
that  I  did  such  a  thing,  they  would  strike  me,  mayhap  send 
me  to  my  bed  alone  in  the  dark." 


IX. 


How  One-eyed  Hans    came   to   Trutz- 

Drachen. 

|RITZ,  the  swineherd,  sat  eating  his  late  sup- 
per of  porridge  out  of  a  great,  coarse,  wood- 
en bowl;  wife  Katherine  sat  at  the  other 
end  of  the  table,  and  the  half-naked  little 
children  played  upon  the  earthen  floor.  A 
shaggy  dog  lay  curled  up  in  front  of  the  fire,  and  a  grunting 
pig  scratched  against  a  leg  of  the  rude  table  close  beside 
where  the  woman  sat. 

"  Yes,  yes/'  said  Katherine,  speaking  of  the  matter  of  which 
they  had  already  been  talking.  "  It  is  all  very  true  that  the 
Drachenhausens  are  a  bad  lot,  and  I  for  one  am  of  no  mind 


FRITZ,    THE   SWINEHERD,    SAT  EATING   HIS   LATE   SUPPER   OF   PORRIDGE. 


HOW  ONE-EYED  HANS  CAME  TO   TRUTZ-DRACHEN.    705 

to  say  no  to  that ;  all  the  same  it  is  a  sad  thing  that  a  simple- 
witted  little  child  like  the  young  Baron  should  be  so  treated 
as  the  boy  has  been  ;  and  now  that  our  Lord  Baron  has 
served  him  so  that  he,  at  least,  will  never  be  able  to  do  us 
harm,  I  for  one  say  that  he  should  not  be  left  there  to  die 
alone  in  that  black  cell." 

Fritz,  the  swineherd,  gave  a  grunt  at  this  without  raising 
his  eyes  from  the  bowl. 

"  Yes,  good,"  said  Katherine,  "  I  know  what  thou  mean- 
est,  Fritz,  and  that  it  is  none  of  my  business  to  be  thrusting 
my  finger  into  the  Baron's  dish.  But  to  hear  the  way  that 
dear  little  child  spoke  when  she  was  here  this  morn — it  would 
have  moved  a  heart  of  stone  to  hear  her  tell  of  all  his  pretty 
talk.  Thou  wilt  try  to  let  the  red-beard  know  that  that  poor 
boy,  his  son,  is  sick  to  death  in  the  black  cell ;  wilt  thou  not, 
Fritz?" 

The  swineherd  dropped  his  wooden  spoon  into  the  bowl 
with  a  clatter.  "  Potstausand  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  art  thou  gone 
out  of  thy  head  to  let  thy  wits  run  upon  such  things  as  this 
of  which  thou  talkest  to  me?  If  it  should  come  to  our  Lord 
Baron's  ears  he  would  cut  the  tongue  from  out  thy  head  and 
my  head  from  off  my  shoulders  for  it.  Dost  thou  think  I  am 
going  to  meddle  in  such  a  matter  as  this  ?  Listen  !  these 
proud  Baron  folk,  with  their  masterful  ways,  drive  our  sort 
hither  and  thither ;  they  beat  us,  they  drive  us,  they  kill  us  as 
they  choose.  Our  lives  are  not  as  much  to  them  as  one  of 
my  black  swine.  Why  should  I  trouble  my  head  if  they 


io6    HOW  ONE-EYED  HANS  CAME  TO   TRUTZ- DRAG  HEN. 

choose  to  lop  and  trim  one  another?  The  fewer  there  are  ol 
them  the  better  for  us,  say  I.  We  poor  folk  have  a  hard 
enough  life  of  it  without  thrusting  our  heads  into  the  noose  to 
help  them  out  of  their  troubles.  What  thinkest  thou  would 
happen  to  us  if  Baron  Henry  should  hear  of  our  betraying  his 
affairs  to  the  Red-beard  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Katherine,  "  thou  hast  naught  to  do  in  the 
matter  but  to  tell  the  Red-beard  in  what  part  of  the  castle  the 
little  Baron  lies." 

"  And  what  good  would  that  do  ?  "  said  Fritz,  the  swine- 
herd. 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Katherine,  "  but  I  have  promised  the 
little  one  that  thou  wouldst  find  the  Baron  Conrad  and  tell 
him  that  much." 

"  Thou  hast  promised  a  mare's  egg,"  said  her  husband, 
angrily.  "  How  shall  I  find  the  Baron  Conrad  to  bear  a 
message  to  him,  when  our  Baron  has  been  looking  for  him 
in  vain  for  two  days  past  ?  " 

"  Thou  has  found  him  once  and  thou  mayst  find  him 
again,"  said  Katherine,  "  for  it  is  not  likely  that  he  will  keep 
far  away  from  here  whilst  his  boy  is  in  such  sore  need  of 
help." 

"  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it !  "  said  Fritz,  and  he 
got  up  from  the  wooden  block  whereon  he  was  sitting  and 
stumped  out  of  the  house.  But,  then,  Katherine  had  heard 
him  talk  in  that  way  before,  and  knew,  in  spite  of  his  saying 
"  no,"  that,  sooner  or  later,  he  would  do  as  she  wished. 


HOW  ONE-EYED  HANS  CAME  TO   TRUTZ-DRACHEN.     107 

Two  days  later  a  very  stout  little  one-eyed  man,  clad  in  a 
leathern  jerkin  and  wearing  a  round  leathern  cap  upon  his 
head,  came  toiling-  up  the  path  to  the  postern  door  of  Trutz- 
Drachen,  his  back  bowed  under  the  burthen  of  a  great  ped- 
dler's pack.  It  was  our  old  friend  the  one-eyed  Hans, 
though  even  his  brother  would  hardly  have  known  him  in  his 
present  guise,  for,  besides  having  turned  peddler,  he  had 
grown  of  a  sudden  surprisingly  fat. 

Rap — tap — tap  !  He  knocked  at  the  door  with  a  knotted 
end  of  the  crooked  thorned  staff  upon  which  he  leaned.  He 
waited  for  a  while  and  then  knocked  again — rap — tap — tap  ! 

Presently,  with  a  click,  a  little  square  wicket  that  pierced 
the  door  was  opened,  and  a  woman's  face  peered  out  through 
the  iron  bars. 

The  one-eyed  Hans  whipped  off  his  leathern  cap. 

"  Good  day,  pretty  one,"  said  he,  "  and  hast  thou  any 
need  of  glass  beads,  ribbons,  combs,  or  trinkets  ?  Here  I  am 
come  all  the  way  from  Gruenstadt,  with  a  pack  full  of  such 
gay  things  as  thou  never  laid  eyes  on  before.  Here  be  rings 
and  bracelets  and  necklaces  that  might  be  of  pure  silver  and 
set  with  diamonds  and  rubies,  for  anything  that  thy  dear  one 
could  tell  if  he  saw  thee  decked  in  them.  And  all  are  so 
cheap  that  thou  hast  only  to  say,  '  I  want  them/  and  they  are 
thine." 

The  frightened  face  at  the  window  looked  from  right  to 
left  and  from  left  to  right.  "  Hush,"  said  the  girl,  and  laid  her 
finger  upon  her  lips.  "  There !  thou  hadst  best  get  away 


jo8    HOW  ONE-EYED  HANS  CAME  TO   TRUTZ-DRACHEN 

from  here,  poor  soul,  as  fast  as  thy  legs  can  carry  thee,  fof 
if  the  Lord  Baron  should  find  thee  here  talking  secretly 
at  the  postern  door,  he  would  loose  the  wolf-hounds  upon 
thee." 

"  Prut,"  said  one-eyed  Hans,  with  a  grin,  "the  Baron  is  too 
big  a  fly  to  see  such  a  little  gnat  as  I ;  but  wolf-hounds  or  no 
wolf-hounds,  I  can  never  go  hence  without  showing  thee  the 
pretty  things  that  I  have  brought  from  the  town,  even  though 
my  stay  be  at  the  danger  of  my  own  hide." 

He  flung  the  pack  from  off  his  shoulders  as  ke  spoke  and 
fell  to  unstrapping  it,  while  the  round  face  of  the  lass  (her 
eyes  big  with  curiosity)  peered  down  at  him  through  the 
grated  iron  bars. 

Hans  held  up  a  necklace  of  blue  and  white  beads  that 
glistened  like  jewels  in  the  sun,  and  from  them  hung  a  gor- 
geous filigree  cross.  "  Didst  thou  ever  see  a  sweeter  thing 
than  this  ?  "  said  he  ;  "  and  look,  here  is  a  comb  that  even  the 
silversmith  would  swear  was  pure  silver  all  the  way  through." 
Then,  in  a  soft,  wheedling  voice,  "Canst  thou  not  let  me  in, 
my  little  bird  ?  Sure  there  are  other  lasses  besides  thyself 
who  would  like  to  trade  with  a  poor  peddler  who  has  trav- 
elled all  the  way  from  Gruenstadt  just  to  please  the  pretty 
ones  of  Trutz-Drachen." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  lass,  in  a  frightened  voice,  "  I  cannot  let 
thee  in  ;  I  know  not  what  the  Baron  would  do  to  me,  even 
now,  if  he  knew  that  I  was  here  talking  to  a  stranger  at  the 
postern  ;  "  and  she  made  as  if  she  would  clap  to  the  little 


HANS  HELD  UP  A  NECKLACE  OF  BLUE  AND  WHITE  BEADS. 


HOW  ONE-EYED  HANS  CAME  TO  TRUTZ-DRACHEN.    in 

window  in  his  face  ;  but  the  one-eyed  Hans  thrust  his  staff  be- 
twixt the  bars  and  so  kept  the  shutter  open. 

"  Nay,  nay/'  said  he,  eagerly,  "  do  not  go  away  from  me 
too  soon.  Look,  dear  one  ;  seest  thou  this  necklace  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  she,  looking  hungrily  at  it. 

"  Then  listen ;  if  thou  wilt  but  let  me  into  the  castle,  so 
that  I  may  strike  a  trade,  I  will  give  it  to  thee  for  thine  own 
without  thy  paying  a  barley  corn  for  it." 

The  girl  looked  and  hesitated,  and  then  looked  again ;  the 
temptation  was  too  great.  There  was  a  noise  of  softly  drawn 
bolts  and  bars,  the  door  was  hesitatingly  opened  a  little  way, 
and,  in  a  twinkling,  the  one-eyed  Hans  had  slipped  inside  the 
castle,  pack  and  all. 

"  The  necklace,"  said  the  girl,  in  a  frightened  whisper. 

Hans  thrust  it  into  her  hand.  "  It's  thine,"  said  he,  "  and 
now  wilt  thou  not  help  me  to  a  trade  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  my  sister  that  thou  art  here,"  said  she,  and 
away  she  ran  from  the  little  stone  hallway,  carefully  bolting 
and  locking  the  further  door  behind  her. 

The  door  that  the  girl  had  locked  was  the  only  one  that 
connected  the  postern  hall  with  the  castle. 

The  one-eyed  Hans  stood  looking  after  her.  "  Them 
fool !  "  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  to  lock  the  door  behind  thee. 
What  shall  I  do  next,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  Here  am  I 
just  as  badly  off  as  I  was  when  I  stood  outside  the  walls. 
Thou  hussy  !  If  thou  hadst  but  let  me  into  the  castle  for  only 
two  little  minutes,  I  would  have  found  somewhere  to  have 


ii2    HOW  ONE-EYED  HANS  CAME  TO   TRUTZ-DRACHEN. 

hidden  myself  while  thy  back  was  turned.  But  what  shall  I 
do  now  ?  "  He  rested  his  pack  upon  the  floor  and  stood 
looking  about  him. 

Built  in  the  stone  wall  opposite  to  him,  was  a  high,  narrow 
fireplace  without  carving  of  any  sort.  As  Hans'  one  eye 
wandered  around  the  bare  stone  space,  his  glance  fell  at  last 
upon  it,  and  there  it  rested.  For  a  while  he  stood  looking  in- 
tently at  it,  presently  he  began  rubbing  his  hand  over  his 
bristling  chin  in  a  thoughtful,  meditative  manner.  Finally  he 
drew  a  deep  breath,  and  giving  himself  a  shake  as  though  to 
arouse  himself  from  his  thoughts,  and  after  listening  a  mo- 
ment or  two  to  make  sure  that  no  one  was  nigh,  he  walked 
softly  to  the  fireplace,  and  stooping,  peered  up  the  chimney. 
Above  him  yawned  a  black  cavernous  depth,  inky  with  the 
soot  of  years.  Hans  straightened  himself,  and  tilting  his 
leathern  cap  to  one  side,  began  scratching  his  bullet-head ; 
at  last  he  drew  a  long  breath.  "  Yes,  good,"  he  muttered  to 
himself,  "  he  who  jumps  into  the  river  must  e'en  swim  the 
best  he  can.  It  is  a  vile,  dirty  place  to  thrust  one's  self,  but  I 
am  in  for  it  now,  and  must  make  the  best  of  a  lame  horse." 

He  settled  the  cap  more  firmly  upon  his  head,  spat  upon 
his  hands,  and  once  more  stooping  in  the  fireplace,  gave  a 
leap,  and  up  the  chimney  he  went  with  a  rattle  of  loose 
mortar  and  a  black  trickle  of  soot. 

By  and  by  footsteps  sounded  outside  the  door.  There  was 
a  pause  ;  a  hurried  whispering  of  women's  voices ;  the  twitter 


HOW  ONE-EYED  HANS  CAME  TO   TRUTZ-DRACHEN.    113 

of  a  nervous  laugh,  and  then  the  door  was  pushed  softly 
open,  and  the  girl  to  whom  the  one-eyed  Hans  had  given  the 
necklace  of  blue  and  white  beads  with  the  filigree  cross  hang- 
ing from  it,  peeped  uncertainly  into  the  room.  Behind  her 
broad,  heavy  face  were  three  others,  equally  homely  and 
stolid ;  for  a  while  all  four  stood  there,  looking  blankly  into  the 
room  and  around  it.  Nothing  was  there  but  the  peddler's 
knapsack  lying  in  the  middle  of  the  floor — the  man  was  gone. 
The  light  of  expectancy  slowly  faded  out  of  the  girl's  face, 
and  in  its  place  succeeded  first  bewilderment  and  then  dull 
alarm.  "  But,  dear  heaven,"  she  said,  "  where  then  has  the 
peddler  man  gone  ?  " 

A  moment  or  two  of  silence  followed  her  speech.  "  Per* 
haps,"  said  one  of  the  others,  in  a  voice  hushed  with  awe, 
"perhaps  it  was  the  evil  one  himself  to  whom  thou  didst 
open  the  door." 

Again  there  was  a  hushed  and  breathless  pause ;  it  was 
the  lass  who  had  let  Hans  in  at  the  postern,  who  next  spoke. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  in  a  voice  trembling  with  fright  at  what 
she  had  done,  "  yes,  it  must  have  been  the  evil  one,  for  now  I 
remember  he  had  but  one  eye."  The  four  girls  crossed 
themselves,  and  their  eyes  grew  big  and  round  with  the 
fright. 

Suddenly  a  shower  of  mortar  came  rattling  down  the 
chimney.  "  Ach  !  "  cried  the  four,  as  with  one  voice.  Bang  ! 
the  door  was  clapped  to  and  away  they  scurried  like  a  flock 
of  frightened  rabbits. 


U4    HOW  ONE-EYED  HANS  CAME  TO   TRUTZ-DRACHEN. 

When  Jacob,  the  watchman,  came  that  way  an  hour  later, 
upon  his  evening  round  of  the  castle,  he  found  a  peddler's 
knapsack  lying  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  He  turned  it  over 
with  his  pike-staff  and  saw  that  it  was  full  of  beads  and  trin- 
kets and  ribbons. 

"  How  came  this  here  ?  "  said  he.  And  then,  without  wait- 
ing for  the  answer  which  he  did  not  expect,  he  flung  it  over 
his  shoulder  and  marched  away  with  it. 


X. 

How  Hans   Brought  Terror  to  the 

Kitchen. 

[ANS  found  himself  in  a  pretty  pickle  in  the 
chimney,  for  the  soot  got  into  his  one  eye 
and  set  it  to  watering,  and  into  his  nose  and 
set  him  to  sneezing,  and  into  his  mouth  and 
his  ears  and  his  hair.  But  still  he  struggled 
on,  up  and  up  ;  "  for  every  chimney  has  a  top,"  said  Hans  to 
himself,  "and  I  am  sure  to  climb  out  somewhere  or  other." 
Suddenly  he  came  to  a  place  where  another  chimney  joined 
the  one  he  was  climbing,  and  here  he  stopped  to  consider 
the  matter  at  his  leisure.  "  See  now,"  he  muttered,  "  if  I 


//<5    HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR    TO    THE  KITCHEN. 

still  go  upward  I  may  come  out  at  the  top  of  some  tall 
chimney-stack  with  no  way  of  getting  down  outside.  Now, 
below  here  there  must  be  a  fire-place  somewhere,  for  a 
chimney  does  not  start  from  nothing  at  all ;  yes,  good !  we 
will  go  down  a  while  and  see  what  we  make  of  that." 

It  was  a  crooked,  zigzag  road  that  he  had  to  travel,  and 
rough  and  hard  into  the  bargain.  His  one  eye  tingled  and 
smarted,  and  his  knees  and  elbows  were  rubbed  to  the  quick  ; 
nevertheless  One-eyed  Hans  had  been  in  worse  trouble  than 
this  in  his  life. 

Down  he  went  and  down  he  went,  further  than  he  had 
climbed  upward  before.  "  Sure,  I  must  be  near  some  place 
or  other,"  he  thought. 

As  though  in  instant  answer  to  his  thoughts,  he  heard  the 
sudden  sound  of  a  voice  so  close  beneath  him  that  he  stopped 
short  in  his  downward  climbing  and  stood  as  still  as  a  mouse, 
with  his  heart  in  his  mouth.  A  few  inches  more  and  he 
would  have  been  discovered  ; — what  would  have  happened 
then  would  have  been  no  hard  matter  to  foretell. 

Hans  braced  his  back  against  one  side  of  the  chimney,  his 
feet  against  the  other  and  then,  leaning  forward,  looked  down 
between  his  knees.  The  gray  light  of  the  coming  evening 
glimmered  in  a  wide  stone  fireplace  just  below  him.  Within 
the  fireplace  two  people  were  moving  about  upon  the  broad 
hearth,  a  great,  fat  woman  and  a  shock-headed  boy.  The 
woman  held  a  spit  with  two  newly  trussed  fowls  upon  it,  so 
that  One-eyed  Hans  knew  that  she  must  be  the  cook. 


•'THOU   UGLY  TOAD,"  SAID   THE  WOMAN. 


HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR   TO   THE  KITCHEN.     119 

"  Thou  ugly  toad,"  said  the  woman  to  the  boy,  "  did  I 
not  bid  thee  make  a  fire  an  hour  ago  ?  and  now,  here  there  is 
not  so  much  as  a  spark  to  roast  the  fowls  withall,  and  they  to 
be  basted  for  the  lord  Baron's  supper.  Where  hast  thou  been 
for  all  this  time  ?  " 

"  No  matter,"  said  the  boy,  sullenly,  as  he  laid  the  fagots 
ready  for  the  lighting  ;  "  no  matter,  I  was  not  running  after 
Long  Jacob,  the  bowman,  to  try  to  catch  him  for  a  sweet- 
heart, as  thou  hast  been  doing." 

The  reply  was  instant  and  ready.  The  cook  raised  her 
hand ;  "  smack  !  "  she  struck  and  a  roar  from  the  scullion  fol- 
lowed. 

"  Yes,  good,"  thought  Hans,  as  he  looked  down  upon 
them ;  "  I  am  glad  that  the  boy's  ear  was  not  on  my  head." 

"  Now  give  me  no  more  of  thy  talk,"  said  the  woman,  "  but 
do  the  work  that  thou  hast  been  bidden."  Then — "  How 
came  all  this  black  soot  here,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

11  How  should  I  know  ?  "  snuffled  the  scullion,  "  mayhap 
thou  wouldst  blame  that  on  me  also  ?" 

"  That  is  my  doing,"  whispered  Hans  to  himself;  "but  if 
they  light  the  fire,  what  then  becomes  of  me  ?  " 

"  See  now,"  said  the  cook  ;  "  I  go  to  make  the  cakes 
ready  ;  if  I  come  back  and  find  that  thou  hast  not  built  the  fire, 
I  will  warm  thy  other  ear  for  thee." 

"  So,"  thought  Hans  ;  "  then  will  be  my  time  to  come 
down  the  chimney,  for  there  will  be  but  one  of  them." 

The  next  moment  he  heard  the  door  close  and  knew  that 


/20    HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR   TO   THE  KITCHEN. 

the  cook  had  gone  to  make  the  cakes  ready  as  she  said.  And 
as  he  looked  down  he  saw  that  the  boy  was  bending  over  the 
bundle  of  fagots,  blowing  the  spark  that  he  had  brought  in 
upon  the  punk  into  a  flame.  The  dry  fagots  began  to  crackle 
and  blaze.  "  Now  is  my  time,"  said  Hans  to  himself.  Bracing 
his  elbows  against  each  side  of  the  chimney,  he  straightened 
his  legs  so  that  he  might  fall  clear.  His  motions  loosened  a 
little  shower  of  soot  that  fell  rattling  upon  the  fagots  that 
were  now  beginning  to  blaze  brightly,  whereupon  the  boy 
raised  his  face  and  looked  up.  Hans  loosened  his  hold  upon 
the  chimney ;  crash  !  he  fell,  lighting  upon  his  feet  in  the 
midst  of  the  burning  fagots.  The  scullion  boy  tumbled  back- 
ward upon  the  floor,  where  he  lay  upon  the  broad  of  his  back 
with  a  face  as  white  as  dough  and  eyes  and  mouth  agape, 
staring  speechlessly  at  the  frightful  inky-black  figure  standing 
in  the  midst  of  the  flames  and  smoke.  Then  his  scattered 
wits  came  back  to  him.  "  It  is  the  evil  one,"  he  roared. 
And  thereupon,  turning  upon  his  side,  he  half  rolled,  half 
scrambled  to  the  door.  Then  out  he  leaped  and,  banging  it 
to  behind  him,  flew  down  the  passageway,  yelling  with  fright 
and  never  daring  once  to  look  behind  him. 

All  the  time  One-eyed  Hans  was  brushing  away  the 
sparks  that  clung  to  his  clothes.  He  was  as  black  as  ink 
from  head  to  foot  with  the  soot  from  the  chimney. 

"  So  far  all  is  good,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "but  if  I  go 
wandering  about  in  my  sooty  shoes  I  will  leave  black  tracks 
to  follow  me,  so  there  is  nothing  to  do  but  e'en  to  go  barefoot. 


HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR   TO  THE  KITCHEN.    121 

He  stooped  and  drawing  the  pointed  soft  leather  shoes  from 
his  feet,  he  threw  them  upon  the  now  blazing  fagots,  where 
they  writhed  and  twisted  and  wrinkled,  and  at  last  burst  into 
a  flame.  Meanwhile  Hans  lost  no  time  ;  he  must  find  a  hid- 
ing-place, and  quickly,  if  he  would  yet  hope  to  escape.  A 
great  bread  trough  stood  in  the  corner  of  the  kitchen — a 
hopper-shaped  chest  with  a  flat  lid.  It  was  the  best  hiding- 
place  that  the  room  afforded.  Without  further  thought  Hans 
ran  to  it,  snatching  up  from  the  table  as  he  passed  a  loaf  of 
black  bread  and  a  bottle  half  full  of  stale  wine,  for  he  had  had 
nothing  to  eat  since  that  morning.  Into  the  great  bread 
trough  he  climbed,  and  drawing  the  lid  down  upon  him,  curled 
himself  up  as  snugly  as  a  mouse  in  its  nest. 

For  a  while  the  kitchen  lay  in  silence,  but  at  last  the  sound 
of  voices  was  heard  at  the  door,  whispering  together  in  low 
tones.  Suddenly  the  door  was  flung  open  and  a  tall,  lean, 
lantern-jawed  fellow,  clad  in  rough  frieze,  strode  into  the  room 
and  stood  there  glaring  with  half  frightened  boldness  around 
about  him ;  three  or  four  women  and  the  trembling  scullion 
crowded  together  in  a  frightened  group  behind  him. 

The  man  was  Long  Jacob,  the  bowman ;  but,  after  all,  his 
boldness  was  all  wasted,  for  not  a  thread  or  a  hair  was  to  be 
seen,  but  only  the  crackling  fire  throwing  its  cheerful  ruddy 
glow  upon  the  wall  of  the  room,  now  rapidly  darkening  in  the 
falling  gray  of  the  twilight  without. 

The  fat  cook's  fright  began  rapidly  to  turn  into  anger. 

"  Thou  imp,"  she  cried,  "  it  is  one  of  thy  tricks/'  and  she 


/22    HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR    TO   THE  KITCHEN. 

made  a  dive  for  the  scullion,  who  ducked  around  the  skirts  of 
one  of  the  other  women  and  so  escaped  for  the  time ;  but  Long 
Jacob  wrinkled  up  his  nose  and  sniffed.  "  Nay,"  said  he,  "  me- 
thinks  that  there  lieth  some  truth  in  the  tale  that  the  boy  hath 
told,  for  here  is  a  vile  smell  of  burned  horn  that  the  black  one 
hath  left  behind  him." 

It  was  the  smell  from  the  soft  leather  shoes  that  Hans  had 
burned. 

The  silence  of  night  had  fallen  over  the  Castle  of  Trutz- 
Drachen  ;  not  a  sound  was  heard  but  the  squeaking  of  mice 
scurring  behind  the  wainscoting,  the  dull  dripping  of  moisture 
from  the  eaves,  or  the  sighing  of  the  night  wind  around  the 
gables  and  through  the  naked  windows  of  the  castle. 

The  lid  of  the  great  dough  trough  was  softly  raised,  and  a 
face,  black  with  soot,  peeped  cautiously  out  from  under  it. 
Then  little  by  little  arose  a  figure  as  black  as  the  face ;  and 
One-eyed  Hans  stepped  out  upon  the  floor,  stretching  and 
rubbing  himself. 

"  Methinks  I  must  have  slept,"  he  muttered.  "  Hui,  I 
am  as  stiff  as  a  new  leather  doublet,  and  now,  what  next  is  to 
become  of  me  ?  I  hope  my  luck  may  yet  stick  to  me,  in  spite 
of  this  foul  black  soot !  " 

Along  the  middle  of  the  front  of  the  great  hall  of  the  castle, 
ran  a  long  stone  gallery,  opening  at  one  end  upon  the  court- 
yard by  a  high  flight  of  stone  steps.  A  man-at-arms  in  breast- 


THE   MAN   WAS  LONG  JACOB,  THB  BOWMAN. 


HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR    TO   THE  KITCHEN.     125 

plate  and  steel  cap,  and  bearing  a  long  pike,  paced  up  and 
down  the  length  of  this  gallery,  now  and  then  stopping,  lean- 
ing over  the  edge,  and  gazing  up  into  the  starry  sky  above  ; 
then,  with  a  long  drawn  yawn,  lazily  turning  back  to  the  mo- 
notonous watch  again. 

A  dark  figure  crept  out  from  an  arched  doorway  at  the 
lower  part  of  the  long  straight  building,  and  some  little  dis- 
tance below  the  end  gallery,  but  the  sentry  saw  nothing  of  it, 
for  his  back  was  turned.  As  silently  and  as  stealthily  as  a 
cat  the  figure  crawled  along  by  the  dark  shadowy  wall,  now 
and  then  stopping,  and  then  again  creeping  slowly  forward  to- 
ward the  gallery  where  the  man-at-arms  moved  monotonously 
up  and  down.  It  was  One-eyed  Hans  in  his  bare  feet. 

Inch  by  inch,  foot  by  foot — the  black  figure  crawled  along 
in  the  angle  of  the  wall ;  inch  by  inch  and  foot  by  foot,  but 
ever  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  long  straight  row  of  stone  steps 
that  led  to  the  covered  gallery.  At  last  it  crouched  at  the 
lowest  step  of  the  flight.  Just  then  the  sentinel  upon  watch 
came  to  the  very  end  of  the  gallery  and  stood  there  leaning 
upon  his  spear.  Had  he  looked  down  below  he  could  not 
have  failed  to  have  seen  One-eyed  Hans  lying  there  mo- 
tionlessly  ;  but  he  was  gazing  far  away  over  the  steep  black 
roofs  beyond,  and  never  saw  the  unsuspected  presence.  Min- 
ute after  minute  passed,  and  the  one  stood  there  looking  out 
into  the  night,  and  the  other  lay  crouching  by  the  wall ;  then 
with  a  weary  sigh  the  sentry  turned  and  began  slowly  pacing 
back  again  toward  the  farther  end  of  the  gallery. 


126    HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR    TO   THE  KITCHEN. 

Instantly  the  motionless  figure  below  arose  and  glided 
noiselessly  and  swiftly  up  the  flight  of  steps. 

Two  rude  stone  pillars  flanked  either  side  of  the  end  of  the 
gallery.  Like  a  shadow  the  black  figure  slipped  behind  one 
of  these,  flattening  itself  up  against  the  wall,  where  it  stood 
straight  and  motionless  as  the  shadows  around  it. 

Down  the  long  gallery  came  the  watchman,  his  sword 
clinking  loudly  in  the  silence  as  he  walked,  tramp,  tramp, 
tramp  !  clink,  clank,  jingle  ! 

Within  three  feet  of  the  motionless  figure  behind  the  pil- 
lar he  turned,  and  began  retracing  his  monotonous  steps.  In- 
stantly the  other  left  the  shadow  of  the  post  and  crept  rapidly 
and  stealthily  after  him.  One  step,  two  steps  the  sentinel 
took;  for  a  moment  the  black  figure  behind  him  seemed  to 
crouch  and  draw  together,  then  like  a  flash  it  leaped  forward 
upon  its  victim. 

A  shadowy  cloth  fell  upon  the  man's  face,  and  in  an  in- 
stant he  was  flung  back  and  down  with  a  muffled  crash  upon 
the  stones.  Then  followed  a  fierce  and  silent  struggle  in  the 
darkness,  but  strong  and  sturdy  as  the  man  was,  he  was  no 
match  for  the  almost  superhuman  strength  of  One-eyed 
Hans.  The  cloth  which  he  had  flung  over  his  head  was  tied 
tightly  and  securely.  Then  the  man  was  forced  upon  his 
face  and,  in  spite  of  his  fierce  struggles,  his  arms  were  bound 
around  and  around  with  strong  fine  cord  ;  next  his  feet  were 
bound  in  the  same  way,  and  the  task  was  done.  Then  Hans 
stood  upon  his  feet,  and  wiped  the  sweat  from  his  swarthy 


IN  AN    INSTANT   HE   WAS   FLUNG   BACK  AND   DOWN. 


HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR   TO   THE  KITCHEN     729 

forehead.  "  Listen,  brother/'  he  whispered,  and  as  he  spoke 
he  stooped  and  pressed  something  cold  and  hard  against  the 
neck  of  the  other.  "  Dost  thou  know  the  feel  of  this  ?  It  is 
a  broad  dagger,  and  if  thou  dost  contrive  to  loose  that  gag 
from  thy  mouth  and  makest  any  outcry,  it  shall  be  sheathed 
in  thy  weasand." 

So  saying,  he  thrust  the  knife  back  again  into  its  sheath, 
then  stooping  and  picking  up  the  other,  he  flung  him  across 
his  shoulder  like  a  sack,  and  running  down  the  steps  as  lightly 
as  though  his  load  was  nothing  at  all,  he  carried  his  burden  to 
the  arched  doorway  whence  he  had  come  a  little  while  before. 
There,  having  first  stripped  his  prisoner  of  all  his  weapons, 
Hans  sat  the  man  up  in  the  angle  of  the  wall.  "  So,  broth- 
er ;  "  said  he,  "  now  we  can  talk  with  more  ease  than  we  could 
up  yonder.  I  will  tell  thee  frankly  why  I  am  here ;  it  is  to 
find  where  the  young  Baron  Otto  of  Drachenhausen  is  kept. 
If  thou  canst  tell  me,  well  and  good  ;  if  not,  I  must  e'en  cut 
thy  weasand  and  find  me  one  who  knoweth  more.  Now, 
canst  thou  tell  me  what  I  would  learn,  brother  ?  " 

The  other  nodded  dimly  in  the  darkness. 

"  That  is  good,"  said  Hans,  "  then  I  will  loose  thy  gag  un- 
til thou  hast  told  me ;  only  bear  in  mind  what  I  said  concern- 
ing my  dagger." 

Thereupon,  he  unbound  his  prisoner,  and  the  fellow  slowly 
rose  to  his  feet.     He  shook  himself  and  looked  all  about  him 
in  a  heavy,  bewildered  fashion,  as  though  he  had  just  awa- 
kened from  a  dream. 
9 


,jo    HOW  HANS  BROUGHT  TERROR    TO   THE  KITCHEN. 

His  right  hand  slid  furtively  down  to  his  side,  but  the 
dagger-sheath  was  empty. 

"  Come,  brother  !  "  said  Hans,  impatiently,  "  time  is  passing, 
and  once  lost  can  never  be  found  again.     Show  me  the  way 

to  the  young  Baron  Otto  or  ."     And  he  whetted  the 

shining  blade  of  his  dagger  on  his  horny  palm. 

The  fellow  needed  no  further  bidding  ;  turning,  he  led  the 
way,  and  together  they  were  swallowed  up  in  the  yawning 
shadows,  and  again  the  hush  of  night-time  lay  upon  the  Cas- 
tle of  Trutz-Drachen. 


XL 

How  Otto  was  Saved. 

|ITTLE  Otto  was  lying  upon  the  hard  couch 
in  his  cell,  tossing  in  restless  and  feverish 
sleep  ;  suddenly  a  heavy  hand  was  laid  upon 
him  and  a  voice  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  Bar- 
on, Baron  Otto,  waken,  rouse  yourself;  I  am 
come  to  help  you.  I  am  One-eyed  Hans." 

Otto  was  awake  in  an  instant  and  raised  himself  upon  his 
elbow  in  the  darkness.  "  One-eyed  Hans,"  he  breathed, 
"  One-eyed  Hans  ;  who  is  One-eyed  Hans  ?  " 

"True,"  said  the  other,  "  thou  dost  not  know  me.  I  am 
thy  father's  trusted  servant,  and  am  the  only  one  excepting 


132  HOW  OTTO  WAS  S 'A I/ED. 

his  own  blood  and  kin  who  has  clung  to  him  in  this  hour  of 
trouble.  Yes,  all  are  gone  but  me  alone,  and  so  I  have  come 
to  help  thee  away  from  this  vile  place." 

"  Oh,  dear,  good  Hans  !  if  only  thou  canst !  "  cried  Otto  ; 
"  if  only  thou  canst  take  me  away  from  this  wicked  place. 
Alas,  dear  Hans  !  I  am  weary  and  sick  to  death."  And  poor 
little  Otto  began  to  weep  silently  in  the  darkness. 

"  Aye,  aye,"  said  Hans,  gruffly,  "  it  is  no  place  for  a  little 
child  to  be.  Canst  thou  climb,  my  little  master  ?  canst  thou 
climb  a  knotted  rope  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Otto,  "  I  can  never  climb  again  !  See,  Hans  ;  " 
and  he  flung  back  the  covers  from  off  him. 

"  I  cannot  see,"  said  Hans,  "it  is  too  dark." 

"Then  feel,  dear  Hans,"  said  Otto. 

Hans  bent  over  the  poor  little  white  figure  glimmering 
palely  in  the  darkness.  Suddenly  he  drew  back  with  a  snarl 
like  an  angry  wolf.  "  Oh  !  the  black,  bloody  wretches  !  "  he 
cried,  hoarsely  ;  "  and  have  they  done  that  to  thee,  a  little 
child  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Otto,  "the  Baron  Henry  did  it."  And  then 
again  he  began  to  cry. 

"  There,  there,"  said  Hans,  roughly,  "  weep  no  more. 
Thou  shalt  get  away  from  here  even  if  thou  canst  not  climb  ; 
I  myself  will  help  thee.  Thy  father  is  already  waiting  below 
the  window  here,  and  thou  shalt  soon  be  with  him.  There, 
there,  cry  no  more." 

While  he  was  speaking  Hans  had  stripped  off  his  ped- 


HOW  OTTO  WAS  SAVED. 


'33 


dler's  leathern  jacket,  and  there,  around  his  body,  was  wrapped 
coil  after  coil  of  stout  hempen  rope  tied  in  knots  at  short  dis- 
tances. He  began  unwinding  the  rope,  and  when  he  had 
done  he  was  as  thin  as  ever  he  had  been  before.  Next  he 
drew  from  the  pouch  that  hung  at  his  side  a  ball  of  fine  cord 
and  a  leaden  weight  pierced  by  a  hole,  both  of  which  he  had 
brought  with  him  for  the  use  to  which  he  now  put  them.  He 
tied  the  lead  to  the  end  of  the  cord,  then  whirling  the  weight 
above  his  head,  he  flung  it  up  toward  the  window  high  above. 
Twice  the  piece  of  lead  fell  back  again  into  the  room ;  the 
third  time  it  flew  out  between  the  iron  bars  carrying  the  cord 
with  it.  Hans  held  the  ball  in  his  hand  and  paid  out  the  string 
as  the  weight  carried  it  downward  toward  the  ground  be- 
neath. Suddenly  the  cord  stopped  running.  Hans  jerked  it 
and  shook  it,  but  it  moved  no  farther.  "  Pray  heaven,  little 
child,"  said  he,  "  that  it  hath  reached  the  ground,  for  if  it  hath 
not  we  are  certainly  lost." 

"  I  do  pray,"  said  Otto,  and  he  bowed  his  head. 

Then,  as  though  in  answer  to  his  prayer,  there  came  a 
twitch  upon  the  cord. 

"See,"  said  Hans,  "they  have  heard  thee  up  above  in 
heaven  ;  it  was  thy  father  who  did  that."  Quickly  and  deftly 
he  tied  the  cord  to  the  end  of  the  knotted  rope ;  then  he  gave 
an  answering  jerk  upon  the  string.  The  next  moment  the 
rope  was  drawn  up  to  the  window  and  down  the  outside  by 
those  below.  Otto  lay  watching  the  rope  as  it  crawled  up  to 
the  window  and  out  into  the  night  like  a  great  snake,  while 


HOW  OTTO  WAS  SAILED. 

One-eyed  Hans  held  the  other  end  lest  it  should  be  drawn 
too  far.  At  last  it  stopped.  "  Good,"  muttered  Hans,  as 
though  to  himself.  "  The  rope  is  long  enough." 

He  waited  for  a  few  minutes  and  then,  drawing  upon  the 
rope  and  finding  that  it  was  held  from  below,  he  spat  upon  his 
hands  and  began  slowly  climbing  up  to  the  window  above. 
Winding  his  arm  around  the  iron  bars  of  the  grating  that 
guarded  it,  he  thrust  his  hand  into  the  pouch  that  hung  by  his 
side,  and  drawing  forth  a  file,  fell  to  work  cutting  through  all 
that  now  lay  between  Otto  and  liberty. 

It  was  slow,  slow  work,  and  it  seemed  to  Otto  as  though 
Hans  would  never  finish  his  task,  as  lying  upon  his  hard 
couch  he  watched  that  figure,  black  against  the  sky,  bending 
over  its  work.  Now  and  then  the  file  screeched  against  the 
hard  iron,  and  then  Hans  would  cease  for  a  moment,  but  only 
to  begin  again  as  industriously  as  ever.  Three  or  four  times 
he  tried  the  effects  of  his  work,  but  still  the  iron  held.  At 
last  he  set  his  shoulder  against  it,  and  as  Otto  looked  he  saw 
the  iron  bend.  Suddenly  there  was  a  sharp  crack,  and  a 
piece  of  the  grating  went  flying  out  into  the  night. 

Hans  tied  the  rope  securely  about  the  stump  of  the  stout 
iron  bar  that  yet  remained,  and  then  slid  down  again  into  the 
room  below. 

"  My  little  lord,"  said  he,  "  dost  thou  think  that  if  I  carry 
thee,  thou  wilt  be  able  and  strong  enough  to  cling  to  my 
neck?" 

"Aye,"  said  Otto,  "methinks  I  will  be  able  to  do  that." 


THE  NEXT  MOMENT  THEY  WERE  HANGING  IN  MID-AIR. 


HOW  OTTO  WAS  SAILED.  i37 


"  Then  come/'  said  Hans. 

He  stooped  as  he  spoke,  and  gently  lifting  Otto  from  his 
rude  and  rugged  bed  he  drew  his  broad  leathern  belt  around 
them  both,  buckling  it  firmly  and  securely.  "  It  does  not  hurt 
thee?"  said  he. 

"  Not  much,"  whispered  Otto,  faintly. 

Then  Hans  spat  upon  his  hands,  and  began  slowly  climb- 
ing the  rope. 

They  reached  the  edge  of  the  window  and  there  they 
rested  for  a  moment,  and  Otto  renewed  his  hold  around  the 
neck  of  the  faithful  Hans. 

"  And  now  art  thou  ready  ?  "  said  Hans. 

"  Aye,"  said  Otto. 

"  Then  courage,"  said  Hans,  and  he  turned  and  swung  his 
leg  over  the  abyss  below. 

The  next  moment  they  were  hanging  in  mid-air. 

Otto  looked  down  and  gave  a  gasp.  "  The  mother  of 
heaven  bless  us,"  he  whispered,  and  then  closed  his  eyes, 
faint  and  dizzy  at  the  sight  of  that  sheer  depth  beneath.  Hans 
said  nothing,  but  shutting  his  teeth  and  wrapping  his  legs 
around  the  rope,  he  began  slowly  descending,  hand  under 
hand.  Down,  down,  down  he  went,  until  to  Otto,  with  his 
eyes  shut  and  his  head  leaning  upon  Hans'  shoulder,  it  seem- 
ed as  though  it  could  never  end.  Down,  down,  down.  Sud- 
denly he  felt  Hans  draw  a  deep  breath  ;  there  was  a  slight 
jar,  and  Otto  opened  his  eyes ;  Hans  was  standing  upon  the 
ground. 


ij8  HOW  OTTO  WAS  SAfED. 

A  figure  wrapped  in  a  dark  cloak  arose  from  the  shadow 
of  the  wall,  and  took  Otto  in  its  arms.  It  was  Baron  Conrad. 

"  My  son — my  little  child  !  "  he  cried,  in  a  choked,  trem- 
bling voice,  and  that  was  all.  And  Otto  pressed  his  cheek 
against  his  father's  and  began  crying. 

Suddenly  the  Baron  gave  a  sharp,  fierce  cry.  "  Dear 
Heaven  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  what  have  they  done  to  thee  ?  "  But 
poor  little  Otto  could  not  answer. 

"Oh  !  "  gasped  the  Baron,  in  a  strangled  voice,  "  my  little 
child  !  my  little  child  !  "  And  therewith  he  broke  down,  and 
his  whole  body  shook  with  fierce,  dry  sobs ;  for  men  in  those 
days  did  not  seek  to  hide  their  grief  as  they  do  now,  but  were 
fierce  and  strong  in  the  expression  of  that  as  of  all  else. 

"Never  mind,  dear  father,"  whispered  Otto;  "it  did  not 
hurt  me  so  very  much,"  and  he  pressed  his  lips  against  his 
father's  cheek. 

Little  Otto  had  but  one  hand. 


XII. 

A  Ride  For  Life. 

|UT  not  yet  was  Otto  safe,  and  all  danger  past 
and  gone  by.  Suddenly,  as  they  stood  there, 
the  harsh  clangor  of  a  bell  broke  the  silence 
of  the  starry  night  above  their  heads,  and  as 
they  raised  their  faces  and  looked  up,  they 
saw  lights  flashing  from  window  to  window.  Presently  came 
the  sound  of  a  hoarse  voice  shouting  something  that,  from  the 
distance,  they  could  not  understand. 

One-eyed  Hans  smote  his  hand  upon  his  thigh.  "  Look," 
said  he,  "  here  is  what  comes  of  having  a  soft  heart  in  one's 
bosom.  I  overcame  and  bound  a  watchman  up  yonder,  and 


i4o  A  RIDE  FOR  LIFE. 

forced  him  to  tell  me  where  our  young  Baron  lay.  It  was  on 
my  mind  to  run  my  knife  into  him  after  he  had  told  me  every- 
thing, but  then,  bethinking  how  the  young  Baron  hated  the 
I  /  thought  of  bloodshed,  I  said  to  myself,  '  No,  Hans,  I  will  spare 
the  villain's  life.'  See  now  what  comes  of  being  merciful ; 
here,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  the  fellow  has  loosed  himself  from 
his  bonds,  and  brings  the  whole  castle  about  our  ears  like  a 
nest  of  wasps." 

"  We  must  fly,"  said  the  Baron  ;  "  for  nothing  else  in  the 
world  is  left  me,  now  that  all  have  deserted  me  in  this  black 
time  of  trouble,  excepting  these  six  faithful  ones." 

His  voice  was  bitter,  bitter,  as  he  spoke  ;  then  stooping,  he 
raised  Otto  in  his  arms,  and  bearing  him  gently,  began  rapidly 
descending  the  rocky  slope  to  the  level  road  that  ran  along 
the  edge  of  the  hill  beneath.  Close  behind  him  followed 
the  rest ;  Hans  still  grimed  with  soot  and  in  his  bare  feet.  A 
little  distance  from  the  road  and  under  the  shade  of  the  forest 
trees,  seven  horses  stood  waiting.  The  Baron  mounted  upon 
his  great  black  charger,  seating  little  Otto  upon  the  saddle  in 
front  of  him.  "  Forward  !  "  he  cried,  and  away  they  clattered 
and  out  upon  the  road.  Then — "  To  St.  Michaelsburg,"  said 
Baron  Conrad,  in  his  deep  voice,  and  the  horses'  heads  were 
turned  to  the  westward,  and  away  they  galloped  through  the 
black  shadows  of  the  forest,  leaving  Trutz-Drachen  behind 
them. 

But  still  the  sound  of  the  alarm  bell  rang  through  the  beat- 
ing of  the  horses'  hoofs,  and  as  Hans  looked  over  his  shoul- 


A  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  /4/ 

der,  he  saw  the  light  of  torches  flashing  hither  and  thither 
along  the  outer  walls  in  front  of  the  great  barbican. 

In  Castle  Trutz-Drachen  all  was  confusion  and  uproar; 
flashing  torches  lit  up  the  dull  gray  walls  ;  horses  neighed  and 
stamped,  and  men  shouted  and  called  to  one  another  in  the 
bustle  of  making  ready.  Presently  Baron  Henry  came  strid- 
ing along  the  corridor  clad  in  light  armor,  which  he  had  has- 
tily donned  when  roused  from  his  sleep  by  the  news  that  his 
prisoner  had  escaped.  Below  in  the  courtyard  his  horse  was 
standing,  and  without  waiting  for  assistance,  he  swung  himself 
into  the  saddle.  Then  away  they  all  rode  and  down  the  steep 
path,  armor  ringing,  swords  clanking,  and  iron-shod  hoofs 
striking  sparks  of  fire  from  the  hard  stones.  At  their  head 
rode  Baron  Henry  ;  his  triangular  shield  hung  over  his  shoul- 
der, and  in  his  hand  he  bore  a  long,  heavy,  steel-pointed  lance 
with  a  pennant  flickering  darkly  from  the  end. 

At  the  high-road  at  the  base  of  the  slope  they  paused,  for 
they  were  at  a  loss  to  know  which  direction  the  fugitives  had 
taken  ;  a  half  a  score  of  the  retainers  leaped  from  their  horses, 
and  began  hurrying  about  hither  and  thither,  and  up  and 
down,  like  hounds  searching  for  the  lost  scent,  and  all  the  time 
Baron  Henry  sat  still  as  a  rock  in  the  midst  cf  the  confusion. 

Suddenly  a  shout  was  raised  from  the  forest  just  beyond 
the  road ;  they  had  come  upon  the  place  where  the  horses 
had  been  tied.  It  was  an  easy  matter  to  trace  the  way  that 
Baron  Conrad  and  his  followers  had  taken  thence  back  to  the 


142  A  RIDE  FOR  LIFE. 

high-road,  but  there  again  they  were  at  a  loss.  The  road  ran 
straight  as  an  arrow  eastward  and  westward — had  the  fugitives 
taken  their  way  to  the  east  or  to  the  west  ? 

Baron  Henry  called  his  head-man,  Nicholas  Stein,  to  him, 
and  the  two  spoke  together  for  a  while  in  an  undertone.  At 
last  the  Baron's  lieutenant  reined  his  horse  back,  and  choosing 
first  one  and  then  another,  divided  the  company  into  two  par- 
ties. The  baron  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  one  band  and 
Nicholas  Stein  at  the  head  of  the  other.  "  Forward  ! "  he 
cried,  and  away  clattered  the  two  companies  of  horsemen  in 
opposite  directions. 

It  was  toward  the  westward  that  Baron  Henry  of  Trutz- 
Drachen  rode  at  the  head  of  his  men. 

The  early  springtide  sun  shot  its  rays  of  misty,  yellow 
light  across  the  rolling  tops  of  the  forest  trees  where  the  little 
birds  were  singing  in  the  glory  of  the  May  morning.  But 
Baron  Henry  and  his  followers  thought  nothing  of  the  beauty 
of  the  peaceful  day,  and  heard  nothing  of  the  multitudinous 
sound  of  the  singing  birds  as,  with  a  confused  sound  of  gallop- 
ing hoofs,  they  swept  along  the  highway,  leaving  behind  them 
a  slow-curling,  low-trailing  cloud  of  dust. 

As  the  sun  i  ose  more  full  and  warm,  the  misty  wreaths 
began  to  dissolve,  until  at  last  they  parted  and  rolled  asunder 
like  a  white  curtain  and  there,  before  the  pursuing  horsemen, 
lay  the  crest  of  the  mountain  toward  which  they  were  riding, 
and  up  which  the  road  wound  steeply. 


HE  WAS  GAZING  STRAIGHT   BEFORE   HIM   WITH   A  SET  AND   STONY  FACE. 


A  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  7^ 

"  Yonder  they  are,"  cried  a  sudden  voice  behind  Baron 
Henry  of  Trutz-Drachen,  and  at  the  cry  all  looked  upward. 

Far  away  upon  the  mountain-side  curled  a  cloud  of  dust, 
from  the  midst  of  which  came  the  star-like  flash  of  burnished 
armor  gleaming  in  the  sun. 

Baron  Henry  said  never  a  word,  but  his  lips  curled  in  a 
grim  smile. 

And  as  the  mist  wreaths  parted  One-eyed  Hans  looked 
behind  and  down  into  the  leafy  valley  beneath.  "  Yonder 
they  come,"  said  he.  "  They  have  followed  sharply  to  gain 
so  much  upon  us,  even  though  our  horses  are  wearied  with 
all  the  travelling  we  have  done  hither  and  yon  these  five 
days  past.  How  far  is  it,  Lord  Baron,  from  here  to  Michaels- 
burg?" 

"About  ten  leagues,"  said  the  Baron,  in  a  gloomy  voice. 

Hans  puckered  his  mouth  as  though  to  whistle,  but  the 
Baron  saw  nothing  of  it,  for  he  was  gazing  straight  before  him 
with  a  set  and  stony  face.  Those  who  followed  him  looked 
at  one  another,  and  the  same  thought  was  in  the  mind  of  each 
— how  long  would  it  be  before  those  who  pursued  would  close 
the  distance  between  them  ? 

When  that  happened  it  meant  death  to  one  and  all. 

They  reached  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  down  they  dashed 
upon  the  other  side  ;  for  there  the  road  was  smooth  and  level 
as  it  sloped  away  into  the  valley,  but  it  was  in  dead  silence 
that  they  rode.  Now  and  then  those  who  followed  the  Baron 


10 


i40  A  RIDE  FOR  LIFE. 

looked  back  over  their  shoulders,  They  had  gained  a  mile 
upon  their  pursuers  when  the  helmeted  heads  rose  above  the 
crest  of  the  mountain,  but  what  was  the  gain  of  a  mile  with  a 
smooth  road  between  them,  and  fresh  horses  to  weary  ones  ? 

On  they  rode  and  on  they  rode.  The  sun  rose  higher  and 
higher,  and  hotter  and  hotter.  There  was  no  time  to  rest  and 
water  their  panting  horses.  Only  once,  when  they  crossed  a 
shallow  stretch  of  water,  the  poor  animals  bent  their  heads  and 
caught  a  few  gulps  from  the  cool  stream,  and  the  One-eyed 
Hans  washed  a  part  of  the  soot  from  his  hands  and  face.  On 
and  on  they  rode  ;  never  once  did  the  Baron  Conrad  move  his 
head  or  alter  that  steadfast  look  as,  gazing  straight  before 
him,  he  rode  steadily  forward  along  the  endless  stretch  of 
road,  with  poor  little  Otto's  yellow  head  and  white  face  rest- 
ing against  his  steel-clad  shoulder — and  St.  Michaelsburg  still 
eight  leagues  away. 

A  little  rise  of  ground  lay  before  them,  and  as  they  climbed 
it,  all,  excepting  the  baron,  turned  their  heads  as  with  one  ac- 
cord and  looked  behind  them.  Then  more  than  one  heart 
failed,  for  through  the  leaves  of  the  trees  below,  they  caught 
the  glint  of  armor  of  those  who  followed — not  more  than  a 
mile  away.  The  next  moment  they  swept  over  the  crest,  and 
there,  below  them,  lay  the  broad  shining  river,  and  nearer  a  trib- 
utary stream  spanned  by  a  rude,  narrow,  three-arched,  stone 
bridge  where  the  road  crossed  the  deep,  slow-moving  water. 

Down  the  slope  plodded  the  weary  horses,  and  so  to  the 
bridge-head. 


A  RIDE  FOR  LIFE.  ,47 

"  Halt,"  cried  the  baron  suddenly,  and  drew  rein. 

The  others  stood  bewildered.  What  did  he  mean  to  do  ? 
He  turned  to  Hans  and  his  blue  eyes  shone  like  steel. 

"  Hans,"  said  he,  in  his  deep  voice,  "  thou  hast  served  me 
long  and  truly  ;  wilt  thou  for  this  one  last  time  do  my  bid- 
ding ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  Hans,  briefly. 

"  Swear  it,"  said  the  Baron. 

"  I  swear  it,"  said  Hans,  and  he  drew  the  sign  of  the  cross 
upon  his  heart. 

"  That  is  good,"  said  the  Baron,  grimly.  "  Then  take  thou 
this  child,  and  with  the  others  ride  with  all  the  speed  that 
thou  canst  to  St.  Michaelsburg.  Give  the  child  into  the 
charge  of  the  Abbot  Otto.  Tell  him  how  that  I  have  sworn 
fealty  to  the  Emperor,  and  what  I  have  gained  thereby — my 
castle  burnt,  my  people  slain,  and  this  poor,  simple  child,  my 
only  son,  mutilated  by  my  enemy." 

"  And  thou,  my  Lord  Baron  ?  "  said  Hans. 

"  I  will  stay  here,"  said  the  Baron,  quietly,  "  and  keep  back 
those  who  follow  as  long  as  God  will  give  me  grace  so  to  do." 

A  murmur  of  remonstrance  rose  among  the  faithful  few 
who  were  with  him,  two  of  whom  were  near  of  kin.  But 
Conrad  of  Drachenhausen  turned  fiercely  upon  them. 
"  How  now,"  said  he,  "have  I- fallen  so  low  in  my  troubles 
that  even  ye  dare  to  raise  your  voices  against  me  ?  By  the 
good  Heaven,  I  will  begin  my  work  here  by  slaying  the  first 
man  who  dares  to  raise  word  against  my  bidding."  Then 


148  A  RIDE  FOR  LIFE. 

he  turned  from  them.  "  Here,  Hans,"  said  he,  "  take  the 
boy;  and  remember,  knave,  what  thou  hast  sworn." 

He  pressed  Otto  close  to  his  breast  in  one  last  embrace. 
"My  little  child,"  he  murmured,  "  try  not  to  hate  thy  father 
when  thou  thinkest  of  him  hereafter,  even  though  he  be  hard 
and  bloody  as  thou  knowest." 

But  with  his  suffering  and  weakness,  little  Otto  knew 
nothing  of  what  was  passing  ;  it  was  only  as  in  a  faint  flicker- 
ing dream  that  he  lived  in  what  was  done  around  him. 

"  Farewell,  Otto,"  said  the  Baron,  but  Otto's  lips  only 
moved  faintly  in  answer.  His  father  kissed  him  upon  either 
cheek.  "  Come,  Hans,"  said  he,  hastily,  "  take  him  hence  ;  " 
and  he  loosed  Otto's  arms  from  about  his  neck. 

Hans  took  Otto  upon  the  saddle  in  front  of  him. 

"  Oh  !  my  dear  Lord  Baron,"  said  he,  and  then  stopped 
with  a  gulp,  and  turned  his  grotesquely  twitching  face  aside. 

"  Go,"  said  the  Baron,  harshly,  "  there  is  no  time  to  lose 
in  woman's  tears." 

"  Farewell,  Conrad  !  farewell,  Conrad  !  "  said  his  two  kins- 
men, and  coming  forward  they  kissed  him  upon  the  cheek  ; 
then  they  turned  and  rode  away  after  Hans,  and  Baron  Con- 
rad was  left  alone  to  face  his  mortal  foe. 


XIII. 

How  Baron  Conrad  Held  the  Bridge. 

|S  the  last  of  his  followers  swept  around  the 
curving  road  and  was  lost  to  sight,  Baron 
Conrad  gave  himself  a  shake,  as  though  to 
drive  away  the  thoughts  that  lay  upon  him. 
Then  he  rode  slowly  forward  to  the  middle 
of  the  bridge,  where  he  wheeled  his  horse  so  as  to  face  his 
coming  enemies.  He  lowered  the  vizor  of  his  helmet  and 
bolted  it  to  its  place,  and  then  saw  that  sword  and  dagger 
were  loose  in  the  scabbard  and  easy  to  draw  when  the  need 
for  drawing  should  arise. 


>     HOW  BARON  CONRAD  HELD   THE  BRIDGE. 

Down  the  steep  path  from  the  hill  above  swept  the  pur- 
suing horsemen.  Down  the  steep  path  to  the  bridge-head, 
and  there  drew  rein  ;  for  in  the  middle  of  the  narrow  way  sat 
the  motionless,  steel-clad  figure  upon  the  great  war-horse, 
with  wide,  red,  panting  nostrils,  and  body  streaked  with  sweat 
and  flecked  with  patches  of  foam. 

One  side  of  the  roadway  of  the  bridge  was  guarded  by  a 
low  stone  wall ;  the  other  side  was  naked  and  open  and  bare 
to  the  deep,  slow-moving  water  beneath.  It  was  a  dangerous 
place  to  attack  a  desperate  man  clad  in  armor  of  proof. 

"  Forward  !  "  cried  Baron  Henry,  but  not  a  soul  stirred  in 
answer,  and  still  the  iron-clad  figure  sat  motionless  and  erect 
upon  the  panting  horse. 

"  How/'  cried  the  Baron  Henry,  "  are  ye  afraid  of  one 
man  ?  Then  follow  me  !  "  and  he  spurred  forward  to  the 
bridge-head.  But  still  no  one  moved  in  answer,  and  the  Lord 
of  Trutz-Drachen  reined  back  his  horse  again.  He  wheeled 
his  horse  and  glared  round  upon  the  stolid  faces  of  his  follow- 
ers, until  his  eyes  seemed  fairly  to  blaze  with  passion  beneath 
the  bars  of  his  vizor. 

Baron  Conrad  gave  a  roar  of  laughter.  "  How  now  !  " 
he  cried  ;  "  are  ye  all  afraid  of  one  man  ?  Is  there  none  among 
ye  that  dares  come  forward  and  meet  me  ?  I  know  thee, 
Baron  Henry  !  thou  art  not  afraid  to  cut  off  the  hand  of  a 
little  child.  Hast  thou  not  now  the  courage  to  face  the 
father  ?  " 

Baron  Henry  gnashed  his   teeth  with  rage  as  he  glared 


IN   THE  MIDDLE   OF  THE   NARROW  WAY   STOOD   THE  MOTIONLESS,  STEEL-CLAD  FIGURE. 


HOW  BARON  CONRAD  HELD   THE  BRIDGE.  f^3 

around  upon  the  faces  of  his  men-at-arms.  Suddenly  his  eye 
lit  upon  one  of  them.  "  Ha  !  Carl  Spigler,"  he  cried,  "  thou 
hast  thy  cross-bow  with  thee  ; — shoot  me  down  yonder  dog  ! 
Nay,"  he  said,  "  thou  canst  do  him  no  harm  under  his  armor  ; 
shoot  the  horse  upon  which  he  sits." 

Baron  Conrad  heard  the  speech.  "  Oh !  thou  coward 
villain  !  "  he  cried,  "  stay  ;  do  not  shoot  the  good  horse.  I 
will  dismount  and  fight  ye  upon  foot."  Thereupon,  armed  as 
he  was,  he  leaped  clashing  from  his  horse  and,  turning  the 
animal's  head,  gave  it  a  slap  upon  the  flank.  The  good  horse 
first  trotted  and  then  walked  to  the  further  end  of  the  bridge, 
where  it  stopped  and  began  cropping  at  the  grass  that  grew 
beside  the  road. 

"  Now  then  !  "  cried  Baron  Henry,  fiercely,  "  now  then,  ye 
cannot  fear  him,  villains !  Down  with  him  !  forward  !  " 

Slowly  the  troopers  spurred  their  horses  forward  upon 
the  bridge  and  toward  that  one  figure  that,  grasping  tightly 
the  great  two-handed  sword,  stood  there  alone  guarding  the 
passage. 

Then  Baron  Conrad  whirled  the  great  blade  above  his 
head,  until  it  caught  the  sunlight  and  flashed  again.  He  did 
not  wait  for  the  attack,  but  when  the  first  of  the  advancing 
horsemen  had  come  within  a  few  feet  of  him,  he  leaped  with 
a  shout  upon  them.  The  fellow  thrust  at  him  with  his  lance, 
and  the  Baron  went  staggering  a  few  feet  back,  but  instantly 
he  recovered  himself  and  again  leaped  forward.  The  great 
sword  flashed  in  the  air,  whistling  ;  it  fell,  and  the  nearest  man 


154  HOW  BARON  CONRAD  HELD   THE  BRIDGE. 

dropped  his  lance,  clattering,  and  with  a  loud,  inarticulate  cry, 
grasped  the  mane  of  his  horse  with  both  hands.  Again  the 
blade  whistled  in  the  air,  and  this  time  it  was  stained  with 
red.  Again  it  fell,  and  with  another  shrill  cry  the  man  top- 
pled headlong  beneath  the  horse's  feet.  The  next  instant 
they  were  upon  him,  each  striving  to  strike  at  the  one  figure, 
to  ride  him  down,  or  to  thrust  him  down  with  their  lances. 
There  was  no  room  now  to  swing  the  long  blade,  but  holding 
the  hilt  in  both  hands,  Baron  Conrad  thrust  with  it  as  though 
it  were  a  lance,  stabbing  at  horse  or  man,  it  mattered  not. 
Crowded  upon  the  narrow  roadway  of  the  bridge,  those  who 
attacked  had  not  only  to  guard  themselves  against  the  dread- 
ful strokes  of  that  terrible  sword,  but  to  keep  their  wounded 
horses  (rearing  and  mad  with  fright)  from  toppling  bodily 
over  with  them  into  the  water  beneath. 

Presently  the  cry  was  raised,  "  Back  !  back  !  "  And  those 
nearest  the  Baron  began  reining  in  their  horses.  "  Forward  !  " 
roared  Baron  Henry,  from  the  midst  of  the  crowd  ;  but  in 
spite  of  his  command,  and  even  the  blows  that  he  gave,  those 
behind  were  borne  back  by  those  in  front,  struggling  and 
shouting,  and  the  bridge  was  cleared  again  excepting  for  three 
figures  that  lay  motionless  upon  the  roadway,  and  that  one 
who,  with  the  brightness  of  his  armor  dimmed  and  stained, 
leaned  panting  against  the  wall  of  the  bridge. 

The  Baron  Henry  raged  like  a  madman.  Gnashing  his 
teeth  together,  he  rode  back  a  little  way ;  then  turning  and 
couching  his  lance,  he  suddenly  clapped  spurs  to  his  horse,  and 


HOW  BARON  CONRAD  HELD   THE  BRIDGE.  755 

the    next    instant   came  thundering  down  upon   his  solitary 
enemy. 

Baron  Conrad  whirled  his  sword  in  the  air,  as  he  saw 
the  other  coming  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  him  ;  he  leaped 
aside,  and  the  lance  passed  close  to  him.  As  it  passed  he 
struck,  and  the  iron  point  flew  from  the  shaft  of  the  spear 
at  the  blow,  and  fell  clattering  upon  the  stone  roadway  of 
the  bridge. 

Baron  Henry  drew  in  his  horse  until  it  rested  upon  its 
haunches,  then  slowly  reined  it  backward  down  the  bridge, 
still  facing  his  foe,  and  still  holding  the  wooden  stump  of 
the  lance  in  his  hand.  At  the  bridge-head  he  flung  it 
from  him. 

"  Another  lance  !  "  he  cried,  hoarsely.  One  was  silently 
reached  to  him  and  he  took  it,  his  hand  trembling  with  rage. 
Again  he  rode  to  a  little  distance  and  wheeled  his  horse; 
then,  driving  his  steel  spurs  into  its  quivering  side,  he  came 
again  thundering  down  upon  the  other.  Once  more  the  ter- 
rible sword  whirled  in  the  air  and  fell,  but  this  time  the  lance 
was  snatched  to  one  side  and  the  blow  fell  harmlessly.  The 
next  instant,  and  with  a  twitch  of  the  bridle-rein,  the  horse 
struck  full  and  fair  against  the  man.  Conrad  of  Drachen- 
hausen  was  whirled  backward  and  downward,  and  the  cruel 
iron  hoofs  crashed  over  his  prostrate  body,  as  horse  and  man 
passed  with  a  rush  beyond  him  and  to  the  bridge-head  be- 
ybnd.  A  shout  went  up  from  those  who  stood  watching. 
The  next  moment  the  prostrate  figure  rose  and  staggered 


1 56  HOW  BARON  CONRAD  HELD   THE  BRIDGE. 

blindly  to  the  side  of  the  bridge,  and  stood  leaning  against 
the  stone  wall. 

At  the  further  end  of  the  bridge  Baron  Henry  had  wheeled 
his  horse.  Once  again  he  couched  lance,  and  again  he  drove 
down  upon  his  bruised  and  wounded  enemy.  This  time  the 
lance  struck  full  and  fair,  and  those  who  watched  saw  the 
steel  point  pierce  the  iron  breast-plate  and  then  snap  short, 
leaving  the  barbed  point  within  the  wound. 

Baron  Conrad  sunk  to  his  knees  and  the  Roderburg,  loom- 
ing upon  his  horse  above  him,  unsheathed  his  sword  to  finish 
the  work  he  had  begun. 

Then  those  who  stood  looking  on  saw  a  wondrous  thing 
happen  :  the  wounded  man  rose  suddenly  to  his  feet,  and  be- 
fore his  enemy  could  strike  he  leaped,  with  a  great  and  bitter 
cry  of  agony  and  despair,  upon  him  as  he  sat  in  the  saddle 
above.  ^  v 

Henry  of  Trutz-Drachen  grasped  at  his  horse's  mane,  but 
the  attack  was  so  fierce,  so  sudden,  and  so  unexpected  that 
before  he  could  save  himself  he  was  dragged  to  one  side  and 
fell  crashing  in  his  armor  upon  the  stone  roadway  of  the 
bridge. 

"  The  dragon  !  the  dragon  !  "  roared  Baron  Conrad,  in  a 
voice  of  thunder,  and  with  the  energy  of  despair  he  dragged 
his  prostrate  foe  toward  the  open  side  of  the  bridge. 

"  Forward  ! "  cried  the  chief  of  the  Trutz-Drachen  men, 
and  down  they  rode  upon  the  struggling  knights  to  the  rescue 
of  their  master  in  this  new  danger.  But  they  were  too  late. 


FOR  A  MOMENT   THEY  STOOD   SWAYING   BACKWARD  AND   FORWARD. 


HOW  BARON  CONRAD  HELD   THE  BRIDGE. 


'59 


There  was  a  pause  at  the  edge  of  the  bridge,  for  Baron 
Henry  had  gained  his  feet  and,  stunned  and  bewildered  as  he 
wa.5  by  the  suddenness  of  his  fall,  he  was  now  struggling 
fiercely,  desperately.  For  a  moment  they  stood  swaying 
backward  and  forward,  clasped  in  one  another's  arms,  the 
blood  from  the  wounded  man's  breast  staining  the  armor  of 
both.  The  moment  passed  and  then,  with  a  shower  of  stones 
and  mortar  from  beneath  their  iron-shod  heels,  they  toppled 
and  fell ;  there  was  a  thunderous  splash  in  the  water  below, 
and  as  the  men-at-arms  came  hurrying  up  and  peered  with 
awe-struck  faces  over  the  parapet  of  the  bridge,  they  saw  the 
whirling  eddies  sweep  down  with  the  current  of  the  stream, 
a  few  bubbles  rise  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  then — 
nothing  ;  for  the  smooth  river  flowed  onward  as  silently 
as  ever. 

Presently  a  loud  voice  burst  through  the  awed  hush  that 
followed.  It  came  from  William  of  Roderburg,  Baron  Henry's 
kinsman.  "  Forward  !  "  he  cried.  A  murmur  of  voices  from 
the  others  was  all  the  answer  that  he  received.  "  Forward  !  " 
cried  the  young  man  again,  "  the  boy  and  those  with  him  are 
not  so  far  away  but  that  we  might  yet  catch  up  with  them." 

Then  one  of  the  men  spoke  up  in  answer — a  man  with  a 
seamed,  weather-beaten  face  and  crisp  grizzled  hair.  "  Nay," 
said  he,  "  our  Lord  Baron  is  gone,  and  this  is  no  quarrel  of 
ours ;  here  be  four  of  us  that  are  wounded  and  three  I  mis- 
doubt that  are  dead  ;  why  should  we  follow  further  only  to  suf- 


lOo 


HOW  BARON  CONRAD  HELD   THE  BRIDGE. 


fer  more  blows  for  no  gain  ?  "  A  growl  of  assent  rose  from 
those  that  stood  around,  and  William  of  Roderburg  saw 
that  nothing  more  was  to  be  done  by  the  Trutz-Dragons 
that  day. 


I  XIV. 

How  Otto  Saw  the  Great  Emperor. 

[HROUGH  weakness  and  sickness  and  faint- 
ness,  Otto  had  lain  in  a  half  swoon  through 
all  that  long  journey  under  the  hot  May  sun. 
It  was  as  in  a  dreadful  nightmare  that  he  had 
heard  on  and  on  and  on  that  monotonous  throb- 
bing of  galloping  hoofs  upon  the  ground ;  had  felt  that  last  kiss 
that  his  father  had  given  him  upon  his  cheek.  Then  the  onward 
ride  again,  until  all  faded  away  into  a  dull  mist  and  he  knew 
no  more.  When  next  he  woke  it  was  with  the  pungent  smell 
of  burned  vinegar  in  his  nostrils  and  with  the  feeling  of  a  cool 


ii 


HOW  OTTO  SAW   THE  GREAT  EMPEROR. 

napkin  bathing  his  brow.  He  opened  his  eyes  and  then  closed 
them  again,  thinking  he  must  have  been  in  a  dream,  for  he  lay 
in  his  old  room  at  the  peaceful  monastery  of  the  White  Cross 
on  the  hill ;  the  good  Father  Abbot  sat  near  by,  gazing  upon 
his  face  with  the  old  absent  student  look,  Brother  John  sat  in 
the  deep  window  seat  also  gazing  at  him,  and  Brother  Theo- 
dore, the  leech  of  the  monastery,  sat  beside  him  bathing  his 
head.  Beside  these  old  familiar  faces  were  the  faces  of  those 
who  had  been  with  him  in  that  long  flight ;  the  One-eyed 
Hans,  old  Master  Nicholas  his  kinsman,  and  the  others.  So 
he  closed  his  eyes,  thinking  that  maybe  it  was  all  a  dream. 
But  the  sharp  throbbing  of  the  poor  stump  at  his  wrist  soon 
taught  him  that  he  was  still  awake. 

"  Am  I  then  really  home  in  St.  Michaelsburg  again  ?  he 
murmured,  without  unclosing  his  eyes. 

Brother  Theodore  began  snuffling  through  his  nose ;  there 
was  a  pause.  "  Yes,"  said  the  old  Abbot  at  last,  and  his  gentle 
voice  trembled  as  he  spoke ;  "  yes,  my  dear  little  child,  thou 
art  back  again  in  thine  own  home  ;  thou  hast  not  been  long 
out  in  the  great  world,  but  truly  thou  hast  had  a  sharp  and 
bitter  trial  of  it." 

"  But  they  will  not  take  me  away  again,  will  they  ?  "  said 
Otto  quickly,  unclosing  his  blue  eyes. 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Abbot,  gently  ;  "  not  until  thou  art  healed 
in  body  and  art  ready  and  willing  to  go." 

Three  months  and  more  had  passed,  and  Otto  was  well 


HOW  OTTO  SAW  THE  GREAT  EMPEROR. 

again ;  and  now,  escorted  by  One-eyed  Hans  and  those  faith- 
ful few  who  had  clung  to  the  Baron  Conrad  through  his  last 
few  bitter  days,  he  was  riding  into  the  quaint  old  town  of 
Nurnburg ;  for  the  Emperor  Rudolph  was  there  at  that  time, 
waiting  for  King  Ottocar  of  Bohemia  to  come  thither  and  an- 
swer the  imperial  summons  before  the  Council,  and  Otto  was 
travelling  to  the  court. 

As  they  rode  in  through  the  gates  of  the  town,  Otto 
looked  up  at  the  high-peaked  houses  with  their  overhanging 
gables,  the  like  of  which  he  had  never  seen  before,  and  he 
stared  with  his  round  blue  eyes  at  seeing  them  so  crowded 
together  along  the  length  of  the  street.  But  most  of  all  he 
wondered  at  the  number  of  people  that  passed  hither  and 
thither,  jostling  each  other  in  their  hurry,  and  at  the  trades- 
men's booths  opening  upon  the  street  with  the  wonderful 
wares  hanging  within  ;  armor  at  the  smiths,  glittering  orna- 
ments at  the  goldsmiths,  and  rich  fabrics  of  silks  and  satins  at 
the  mercers.  He  had  never  seen  anything  so  rich  and  grand 
in  all  of  his  life,  for  little  Otto  had  never  been  in  a  town 
before. 

"  Oh  !  look/'  he  cried,  "  at  that  wonderful  lady  ;  see,  holy 
father  !  sure  the  Emperor's  wife  can  be  no  finer  than  that  lady." 

The  Abbot  smiled.  "  Nay,  Otto,"  said  he,  "  that  is  but  a 
burgher's  wife  or  daughter ;  the  ladies  at  the  Emperor's  court 
are  far  grander  than  such  as  she." 

"  So  !  "  said  Otto,  and  then  fell  silent  with  wonder. 

And  now,  at  last  the  great  moment  had  come  when  little 


1 6*  HOW  OTTO  SAW  THE  GREAT  EMPEROR. 

Otto  with  his  own  eyes  was  to  behold  the  mighty  Emperor  who 
ruled  over  all  the  powerful  kingdoms  of  Germany  and  Austria, 
and  Italy  and  Bohemia,  and  other  kingdoms  and  principalities 
and  states.  His  heart  beat  so  that  he  could  hardly  speak  as, 
for  a  moment,  the  good  Abbot  who  held  him  by  the  hand 
stopped  outside  of  the  arrased  doorway  to  whisper  some  last 
instructions  into  his  ear.  Then  they  entered  the  apartment. 

It  was  a  long,  stone-paved  room.  The  floor  was  covered 
with  rich  rugs  and  the  walls  were  hung  with  woven  tapestry 
wherein  were  depicted  knights  and  ladies  in  leafy  gardens  and 
kings  and  warriors  at  battle.  A  long  row  of  high  glazed  win- 
dows extended  along  the  length  of  the  apartment,  flooding  it 
with  the  mellow  light  of  the  autumn  day.  At  the  further  end 
of  the  room,  far  away,  and  standing  by  a  great  carved  chimney 
place  wherein  smouldered  the  remains  of  a  fire,  stood  a  group 
of  nobles  in  gorgeous  dress  of  velvet  and  silks,  and  with  glit- 
tering golden  chains  hung  about  their  necks. 

One  figure  stood  alone  in  front  of  the  great  yawning  fire- 
place. His  hands  were  clasped  behind  him,  and  his  look  bent 
thoughtfully  upon  the  floor.  He  was  dressed  only  in  a  sim- 
ple gray  robe  without  ornament  or  adornment,  a  plain  leath- 
ern belt  girded  his  waist,  and  from  it  hung  a  sword  with  a 
bone  hilt  encased  in  a  brown  leathern  scabbard.  A  noble 
stag-hound  lay  close  behind  him,  curled  up  upon  the  floor, 
basking  in  the  grateful  warmth  of  the  fire. 

As  the  Father  Abbot  and  Otto  drew  near  he  raised  his 
head  and  looked  at  them.  It  was  a  plain,  homely  face  that 


IT   WAS   THE   GREAT   EMPEROR   RUDOLPH. 


C-D 

-•**: 


HOW  OTTO  SAW  THE  GREAT  EMPEROR.  I6? 

Otto  saw,  with  a  wrinkled  forehead  and  a  long  mouth  drawn 
down  at  the  corners.  It  was  the  face  of  a  good,  honest  burgh- 
er burdened  with  the  cares  of  a  prosperous  trade.  "Who 
can  he  be,"  thought  Otto,  "  and  why  does  the  poor  man 
stand  there  among  all  the  great  nobles  ?  " 

But  the  Abbot  walked  straight  up  to  him  and  kneeled  up- 
on the  floor,  and  little  Otto,  full  of  wonder,  did  the  same.  It 
was  the  great  Emperor  Rudolph. 

"  Who  have  we  here  ?  "  said  the  Emperor,  and  he  bent 
his  brow  upon  the  Abbot  and  the  boy. 

"Sire,"  said  Abbot  Otto,  "we  have  humbly  besought  you 
by  petition,  in  the  name  of  your  late  vassal,  Baron  Conrad  of 
Vuelph  of  Drachenhausen,  for  justice  to  this  his  son,  the  Baron 
Otto,  whom,  sire,  as  you  may  see,  hath  been  cruelly  mutilated 
at  the  hands  of  Baron  Henry  of  Roderburg  of  Trutz-Drachen. 
He  hath  moreover  been  despoiled  of  his  lands,  his  castle 
burnt,  and  his  household  made  prisoner." 

The  Emperor  frowned  until  the  shaggy  eyebrows  nearly 
hid  the  keen  gray  twinkle  of  the  eyes  beneath.  "  Yes,"  said 
he,  "  I  do  remember  me  of  that  petition,  and  have  given  it 
consideration  both  in  private  and  in  council."  He  turned  to 
the  group  of  listening  nobles.  "  Look,"  said  he,  "at  this  lit- 
tle child  marred  by  the  inhumanity  and  the  cruelty  of  those 
robber  villains.  By  heavens  !  I  will  put  down  their  lawless 
rapine,  if  I  have  to  give  every  castle  from  the  north  to  the 
south  to  the  flames  and  to  the  sword."  Then  turning  to  Otto 
again,  "Poor  little  child,"  said  he,  "thy  wrongs  shall  be 


168  HOW  OTTO  SAW  THE  GREAT  EMPEROR. 

righted,  and  so  far  as  they  are  able,  those  cruel  Roderburgs 
shall  pay  thee  penny  for  penny,  and  grain  for  grain,  for  what 
thou  hast  lost ;  and  until  such  indemnity  hath  been  paid  the  fam- 
ily of  the  man  who  wrought  this  deed  shall  be  held  as  surety." 

Little  Otto  looked  up  in  the  kind,  rugged  face  above  him. 

"  Nay,  Lord  Emperor,"  said  he,  in  his  quaint,  quiet  way, 
"  there  are  but  two  in  the  family — the  mother  and  the  daugh- 
ter—and I  have  promised  to  marry  the  little  girl  when  she 
and  I  are  old  enough  ;  so,  if  you  please,  I  would  not  have 
harm  happen  to  her." 

The  Emperor  continued  to  look  down  at  the  kneeling  boy, 
and  at  last  he  gave  a  short,  dry  laugh.  "  So  be  it,"  said  he, 
"thy  plan  is  not  without  its  wisdom.  Mayhap  it  is  all  for  the 
best  that  the  affair  should  be  ended  thus  peacefully.  The  es- 
tates of  the  Roderburgs  shall  be  held  in  trust  for  thee  until 
thou  art  come  of  age  ;  otherwise  it  shall  be  as  thou  hast  pro- 
posed, the  little  maiden  shall  be  taken  into  ward  under  our 
own  care.  And  as  to  thee — art  thou  willing  that  I  should 
take  thee  under  my  own  charge  in  the  room  of  thy  father, 
who  is  dead  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  Otto,  simply,  "  I  am  willing,  for  it  seems  to 
me  that  thou  art  a  good  man." 

The  nobles  who  stood  near  smiled  at  the  boy's  speech. 

As  for  the  Emperor,  he  laughed  outright.  "  I  give  thee 
thanks,  my  Lord  Baron,"  said  he ;  "  there  is  no  one  in  all  my 
court  who  has  paid  me  greater  courtesy  than  that." 


HOW  OTTO  SAW  THE  GREAT  EMPEROR. 

So  comes  the  end  of  our  tale. 

But  perhaps  you  may  like  to  know  what  happened  after- 
ward,  for  no  one  cares  to  leave  the  thread  of  a  story  without 
tying  a  knot  in  it. 

Eight  years  had  passed,  and  Otto  grew  up  to  manhood  in 
the  Emperor's  court,  and  was  with  him  through  war  and 
peace. 

But  he  himself  never  drew  sword  or  struck  a  blow,  for  the 
right  hand  that  hung  at  his  side  was  of  pure  silver,  and  the 
hard,  cold  fingers  never  closed.  Folks  called  him  "  Otto  of 
the  Silver  Hand,"  but  perhaps  there  was  another  reason  than 
that  for  the  name  that  had  been  given  him,  for  the  pure,  sim- 
ple wisdom  that  the  old  monks  of  the  White  Cross  on  the  hill 
had  taught  him,  clung  to  him  through  all  the  honors  that  the 
Emperor  bestowed  upon  his  favorite,  and  as  he  grew  older 
his  words  were  listened  to  and  weighed  by  those  who  were 
high  in  Council,  and  even  by  the  Emperor  himself. 

And  now  for  the  end  of  all. 

One  day  Otto  stood  uncertainly  at  the  doorway  of  a  room 
in  the  imperial  castle,  hesitating  before  he  entered  ;  and  yet 
there  was  nothing  so  very  dreadful  within,  only  one  poor  girl 
whose  heart  fluttered  more  than  his.  Poor  little  Pauline, 
whom  he  had  not  seen  since  that  last  day  in  the  black  cell  at 
Trutz-Drachen. 

At  last  he  pushed  aside  the  hangings  and  entered  the 
room. 


170  HOW  OTTO  SAW  THE  GREAT  EMPEROR. 

She  was  sitting  upon  a  rude  bench  beside  the  window, 
looking  at  him  out  of  her  great,  dark  eyes. 

He  stopped  short  and  stood  for  a  moment  confused  and 
silent ;  for  he  had  no  thought  in  his  mind  but  of  the  little  girl 
whom  he  had  last  seen,  and  for  a  moment  he  stood  confused 
before  the  fair  maiden  with  her  great,  beautiful  dark  eyes. 

She  on  her  part  beheld  a  tall,  slender  youth  with  curlingr 
golden  hair,  one  hand  white  and  delicate,  the  other  of  pure 
and  shining  silver. 

He  came  to  her  and  took  her  hand  and  set  it  to  his  lips, 
and  all  that  she  could  do  was  to  gaze  with  her  great,  dark 
eyes  upon  the  hero  of  whom  she  had  heard  so  many  talk ; 
the  favorite  of  the  Emperor ;  the  wise  young  Otto  of  the  Sil- 
ver Hand. 


HB  TOOK  HER   HAND  AND  SET  IT  TO  HIS  LIPS. 


AFTERWORD. 

\HE  ruins  of  Drachenbausen  were  rebuilt,  for 
the  walls  were  there  as  sound  as  ever,  though 
empty  and  gaping  to  the  sky  ;  but  it  was  no 
longer  the  den  of  a  robber  baron,  for  beneath 
the  scutcheon  over  the  great  gate  was  carved  a 

new  motto  of  the  yuelpbs  ;  a  motto  which  the  Emperor  Rudolph 

himself  bad  given  : 


drgenfea  <}uam  ntctnuB  ferret  tneftor  eat 


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